Blood Runes
by Darth Bubbles 16985214
Summary: Sometimes, we all get fed up with life. Who needs morality anyway? Life is just much more fun without it. Blood Magic Necromancer!Harry Soul Magic Dark!Harry Evil!Harry Powerful!Harry. GenFic Somewhat original concept.
1. Chapter 1

"Blood is thicker than water..."

-Proverb

Chapter 1-The Writing on the Wall

Harry Potter was the odd sort of boy that everyone talks about, but nobody knows. It was the talk of the neighborhood of Privet Drive Surrey, about how the saints who reside at Number 4 were such good people for controlling such a criminal freak like their nephew.

However, said criminal freak was currently crying and bleeding in the cupboard, after mouthing off to his Uncle Vernon. Whilst that in of itself was not an unusual occurrence, it was what came after that was.

Because, Harry Potter, freak of nature, menace to society, and the criminal presence at Privet Drive, was a wizard. Now given that he didn't know that he was a wizard, the seven year old was not a very good wizard, but all the same, belief in possibility and willpower were the two main tenets of magic. The first one usually being ignored.

He had been at the library, and had fooled the assistant into letting him check out a couple fantasy books. Unfortunately, when Harry got home, he was accosted by Vernon, who upon seeing the books, turned purple with rage. Harry tried to protest his innocence, but of course, Vernon wouldn't have **THAT** in his house, in anyway shape or form. Harry kept trying to protest that he just wanted to read.

Vernon however, was convinced that the motive behind this was some sort of freakish rebellion that needed to be squashed out of existence so that his precious Dudders didn't have to grow up in a house with a defiant freak, that might hurt his poor child. Vernon was of course being delusional but he didn't see it and more importantly, didn't care.

"BOY, IF YOU EVER, BRING SOMETHING LIKE THAT INTO THIS HOUSE AGAIN, I WILL TAKE YOU BY THE EAR AND TOSS YOU OUT ON THE STREET. AFTER ALL THAT WE HAVE DONE FOR YOU, TAKING YOU IN, FEEDING YOU, RAISING YOU, THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US? WITH SOME BARMY FREAKISH NONSENSE? GET IN YOUR ROOM!"

Vernon's voice rumbled through the house like an earthquake, the sound traveling through the doors and walls.

Vernon began to smack the young child a couple of times, and when Harry's face was all bloodied, he was roughly thrown into the cupboard under the stairs, a tiny little dark room, with only spiders and mold for company. Vernon locked him in and left in a huff.

But in his haste, Vernon forgot to check for any other books, and thus missed the one concealed under Harry's shirt.

He opened it up, and began to read. To his annoyance, it wasn't a fantasy book at all, but rather a book of Nordic history. Not to be deterred, Harry flipped through to see if there was anything interesting, and eventually came to a rest on the section of runes.

The chapter was long, and the general gist of it was that runes were used as vehicles of meaning long ago, and even for 'magic'. Of course, at the sight of that particular word, several impressions competed for attention, ingrained in him by years with the Dursleys. The foremost, were, _Everything freakish is bad, Hey that looks kinda cool, _and _If Uncle Vernon says it is not true so often, is he trying to convince himself?_

Harry then went on to read later in the chapter about how blood was incredibly important to the Vikings, and was believed to have various mystical powers involving the soul. Somewhat curious, Harry then theorized that maybe a rune written in blood might have magic. Afterall, there are stories of signing names in blood to sell one's soul, so Harry reasoned that there may be a grain of truth to the whole thing.

Having come to this conclusion, Harry dipped his finger in his now sluggishly bleeding would, and wrote his name on the wall. Nothing happened. Frowning, Harry consulted the book, and wrote the runes for healing. Bōtrūn.

This time, something different happened. The word began to repeat in Harry's mind, echoing stronger and stronger. However nothing seemed to happen, and with a headache beginning to form, Harry tried to _will _the words out of his head and into the blood.

With this last mental push, something changed. Harry couldn't tell what, but it changed. He waited some more, and grew frustrated, finally just willing it to change.  
Finally, after what seemed like forever, something did change. The bloody red letters spelling out healing, lit up. They began glowing a soft, pulsating red, and giving off a warmth Harry had not expected. It looked like a macabre Aurora Borealis on his wall. The blood glowed and flickered like live coals of red, and the power lit up the darkness by casting a dull red sheen on everything. Harry's wounds healed over, not even leaving a scar, but there was an unexpected feeling. When writing the word, Harry's greatest subconscious desire had not been healing, but rather to be protected, and the very rudimentary blood rune, fueled by Harry's need, had inadvertently tapped into the blood wards and protection left by his mother, and repositioned around the cupboard. The Dursley's were excluded, as Harry subconsciously thought that they needed no protection. It felt like the darkness of the previously hated cupboard was now safe and protective, almost as if it were giving Harry a spiritual hug.

But then Harry began to panick. What if Aunt Petunia found the words? She would blame him, punish him, and maybe even erase them. Harry was right on verge of trying to write a word of hiding, when he realized something important. He was doing magic. And everyone agreed, that magic was doing the impossible. He didn't have to panic, because he could now magic the living daylights out of the Dursley Family.

So Harry, instead of panicking, instead drew out a series of runes. They were simple, and more like a rough lines and letterings, as the Elder Futhark was primarily elongated characters which looked like sticks, and served as the precursor for some of our letters. However, the runes for hiding and secrecy were not lighting up. They still had some component to them which was missing. Harry looked back at the books, and tried to figure out how to pronounce it.

_"Leyna"_ Harry breathed softly, voice ending in a hiss under his breath as he tried not to gain the attention of Uncle Vernon. As he said this, he strived for the same balance that allowed him to make the first rune glow. It felt like his frustration came rushing out and broke through a dam. The rune began glowing and retaining power, and suddenly all the blood on the wall shimmered and became vaguely transparent. While Harry could feel and see it, he had a sneaking suspicion that his relatives wouldn't be able to.

Harry then picked up a spider, and for the sake of thoroughness, he breathed "_Leyna"_ on the spider while concentrating on his frustration. The spider briefly turned transparent, but then turned normal again. Harry tried it again, putting more power and frustration into the word, but the spider only lasted a few seconds longer.

Harry concluded that the more power he put into the word, the longer it would last. But the runes, while harder to power, didn't seem to die down.

Harry smiled slowly, a feral grin cutting open his face. He had work to do.

* * *

**OLD AN-I kinda felt that no one was reading my Chlorine that much, and of course it is an obscure category that needs much explanation. So I felt I might try another concept a little closer to home. I may include some stuff from Chlorine like the Burning Words and maybe some necromancy, but my focus here will be runes, blood magic, and especially blood runes.**

**NEW AN-Gotten several pms and reviews about continuing this godforsaken trashy story. Since I won't do that, I must now edit it so it is less horrible. The things I do for my fanbase. This will be in editing, and I will upload each chapter as I finish edits. Just accept the plotholes, they are better than the original chapters.**


	2. Chapter 2

_I believe that true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity._

_-Charles Xavier (X-Men First Class)_

**Chapter 2-Runes and Languages**

* * *

After Harry had made the discovery of his magic, he went on a short burst, trying to do as much with it as he could. He looked up more and more symbols to use and used them. Harry's cupboard was riddled with his experiments, covering it with a bloody spidery writing, in a language that not many had seen before. It curled up and around the walls, and to Harry's eyes, looked like a great flickering fire, casting eerie maroon shadows on him and his cot, threatening to consume everything with its power.

After his discovery, runes became his life. Day after day, night after night, he would draw the powerful characters on his wall, only pausing when he passed out from exhaustion. He had stolen a knife from his Uncle Vernon, and would slash open his wrists and poor the blood into an old vase. He would then write and write, until the blood in the vase would dry and he had to do it again. All of Harry's pain was muted by the sense and high of power that he got from it. If he grew faint from blood-loss, he would press a stone with a healing rune written on it, and then continue writing. He wrote and he wrote, but eventually, Harry ran out of space on his walls. So he wrote runes of space and infinity on the walls, and while his own physical space wasn't expanded, the space he could write on his walls was, so that he might write runes upon runes, layers upon layers.  
Day after day, Harry became more and more obsessed, writing thousands of runes per day on the scrolling cupboard walls, driving off his boredom by soaking his hands with blood, seeing by virtue of the red rune-light. If any true rune master has seen it, they would be both awed and horrified. Horrified by the amount of the forbidden runes there were, and disgusted by the crude awkward configurations in a language cobbled together by a child, yet awed at the power, and work put into it.

Harry couldn't explain it, not even to himself. When he ran out of things to write of, and couldn't think of a new idea, he would nearly go mad, writing the same runic lines over and over, until he broke out of his stupor and saw the macabre canvas that was his wall. He was so clumsy and crude, but by sheer virtue of the life and magic and FOCUS that had been poured into the runes and imbued the walls with the capability to survive anything. Runes against fire, water, wind, earth, energy, kinetic and otherwise. Runes to protect his own runes. A nuclear missile could hit the house, and the cupboard under the stairs had a chance of survival.

* * *

Harry walked down the street, idly looked about. If any looked closely, they might have considered that the young boy was on some sort of drugs, with Harry's eyes periodically twitching and the veins of his eyes inflamed. He would periodically go out of the house and to the stores, to try to find ideas for his precious runes. He had already bought a stylus for himself to write with, an upgrade from the split twig he had used to write the runes before.

He was wearing his jacket today, that he had found abandoned in a park at one point. For some reason, people became very nervous and had fits, when they saw 9 year olds with more scars on his arms than suicidal battle veterans.

Harry walked into town and traversed the sidewalks until he got to the bookstore. When he first discovered runes, he made sure to become fluent in Norse for verbal magic, which still did not appeal to him much. He also had researched all the ancient languages and became proficient in Latin and the Etruscan Alphabet. As a result, his runic writing was a strange amalgamation of ancient symbols and his own languages. He could also use a bit of Chinese and Egyptian glyphs, but he couldn't fluently read it by any means.

He glanced down at the journal section. Then Harry had an idea. _If I can use my runes on paper, then why shouldn't I be able to make an endless journal for runes away from my house?_

"Excuse me Miss, but how much is this?" Harry asked, already planning.

He discretely palmed his stylus, and pricked himself on the finger with the sharp end. A drop of blood welled up and Harry dipped the stylus in it.

"Sorry little boy, but this is 5 pounds and it doesn't look like you have that much." The teenage girl said sarcastically from her position behind the counter.

_"Vald Ged"_ Harry whispered under his breath, clutching his blood-soaked stylus, which he had used to channel his magic through and get a better result.

The shopkeeper's eyes glazed over and Harry fully pointed the stylus at her, glaring at her eyes and influencing her mind.

"You will not remember this encounter, nor keep records of it. If anyone asks about the missing book, you will claim it never existed and that there was a clerical error. You will henceforth strive to not be such a bitch." Harry said, voice reverberating and carrying overtones of power.

The shopkeeper stared straight ahead, oblivious to the world, while Harry walked out with his prize. Unseen to him, her nose began to drip blood, and her face turned pale. Later on, she would be declared comatose.

When Harry got home, he began writing in the inside cover, runes of protection and permanence. The journal would be immune to fire and water, and wear and tear. Finally, he imbued it with a whole sentence of runes, designed for infinite pages but no space issue. He could write forever, and new pages would just keep appearing and it would stay the same. He took a look at its cover. Ironically, it had a gold infinity sign embossed on the cover. He began writing in it. The first page, he wrote lines of burning, fire, and flames. He wrote so fast that the drops of blood splattered the page, as the spidery writing took shape. He began carefully crafting it so that it needed a special code word to ignite.

Once that page had been written, Harry tore out a page and picked a spider out of the ceiling. He drew a rune of holding on the paper, and then dropped the spider onto it. It kicked and thrashed as if it had been chained down to the rune by some invisible string. He then began slowly writing runes of draining, runes of soul, magic and life. He wrote them slowly, in concentric circles around the spider, repeating it over and over. Then slowly, lovingly, he stroked his hand over them, watching as they ignited and rippled to life. But instead of the now familiar shimmering patterns, the bloody light was now swirling, a whirlpool of maroon swirling inward towards the spider.

The spider began to thrash and writhe, as if in unspeakable pain. Then, with an almighty wrench, a white globe floated out of the body, followed by a golden nimbus, and on the outskirts of the nimbus, was a rainbow shimmering aura. Soul, life, and magic.

Harry nervously poked it with his finger, and they were all absorbed into the appendage. A burst of energy flew through his body, bringing with it memories and impressions of being an insect. And the magic and soul began to be torn apart by Harry's now formidable magic. It was being torn apart and disassembled to remove all the foreign elements in it, and eventually was converted into clean magic.

Now what would happen if Harry imbued his bloody ink with those substances...  
Harry grinned evilly.

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**OLD AN- Okay, so thank you so much for the support. Shoutout to geetac for the support and excessive favoriting and following. Love ya. Anyway, for those who don't know me, or haven't had the time to get a handle on my style, basically i get writer's block for a week, then have a flurry of updates. I am going for a rather dark fic, and sorry if you didn't like bloody harry. Note that harry is obsessed, not depressed. He also is not the most mentally stable. Necromancy fans, it will come soon. Give me more reviews.**


	3. Chapter 3

_I do not own Harry Potter._  
_Power is always dangerous. Power attracts the worst and corrupts the best._

_-Edward Abbey_

**Chapter 3-The Alley**

* * *

Harry was trying something new. After a couple years of blood runes, he had to reluctantly accept that, after millions of the sentences in his lifeblood, enough was enough.

Harry had noticed that casting verbal magic without a tool was hard. He was able to use his stylus to channel his magic because of all the blood and magic that had been channeled through it over the years. Harry had grown quite adept at just pricking himself and writing some impromptu runes, powering them up even as he wrote them. But his stylus could be broken, and without it, he was prone to running out of power very fast in a fight.

He had heard some old soldiers tales of how they were able to make tattoos by making a wound and then rubbing ash into it. Harry, after hearing some stories from his chemistry class, had an idea of making a magical tattoo.

Late one night, he unlocked the door of his cupboard. He carried his trusty notebook, which had become a formidable weapon in the past years. He snuck upstairs, powering up one of the pages of the journal that had runes of stealth and silence. This was essential, as the stairs were creaky from the years of Dudley pounding down them. He went straight to Dudley's bedroom, and gently placed a scrap of paper with charms of silence, deep sleep, and obliviousness. Harry then snuck into his Uncle and Aunt's room, and did the same, though Harry nearly jumped when Vernon snorted.

He then went back downstairs, unafraid of the noise that he might make, now that his relatives had been taken care of. He went to his room, and retrieved his jar. In the past, Harry had to make do with the old pilfered vase of Petunias, but now he was able to use a space-expanded jar with a sealable lid, that had charms to keep the blood fresh and prevent it from drying out. Between Harry's healing stone, jar, and boredom some nights, Harry had gallons upon gallons of unused blood in his tiny little jar.

Harry collected a deep dish pan, and drew runic symbols on it, symbols for both durability, unbreakability, and heat-resistance, as well as some runes for heat conduction. Then he sealed it with a piece of paper that had a rune preservation field. The paper would need to be destroyed before the other runes came off.

Then Harry took another piece of paper, and carefully wrote a rather elaborate sequence of runes. A blue bubble now surrounded the pan, allowing things in but not out. The pan itself levitated in the center, and Harry's workstation was almost complete. He then took out another piece of paper, one of his pre-prepared pages, crumpled it into a ball, and set it inside the bubble, at the bottom. Harry then took the jar, and poured a fair amount into the pan.

Harry went back to his cupboard, and retrieved three hidden vials, not unlike what a chemist would use. Harry poured all three in. One was full of little glowing white globes, some bigger than others. These were the souls collected from animals around the neighborhood, in preparation for the event.

Harry then poured in the other two vials, one full of a shimmering golden gas that represented the life of the animals, and the other full of sparkling rainbows that were their magic, such as it was. They all went into the blood, and when it touched, the blood rippled and began bubbling, the innate magic in Harry's blood tearing apart the foreign energies and converting them into blank energy.

Harry then spoke a single word.  
"Brenna" Harry intoned softly.  
The crumpled ball of paper, that had runes written all on the inside, activated. The runes on it lit up and glowed red, before the paper was consumed by a roaring inferno of whitish-blue flames. The fire would burn as long as Harry had need of it, and was safely contained within the sphere.

The pan of blood began bubbling furiously, before it caught on fire, roiling angrily and spitting sparks. Instead of letting it die down, Harry poured more blood into the pan. More and more, so that the blood never ran out. Eventually though, the blood ran out, and as the blood in the pan roasted, the fire began to die out. Eventually, all that was left was a thick, gritty, dark grey ash.

Harry waved his hand over it, silently summoning the metal out of the dust. Dark grey flecks, like iron filings flew out of the deep dish, and Harry, with his stylus to aid him, reformed the metal into a dark grey ring of iron. Blood iron. This would be his secondary focus.

He then took his trusty knife, and mercilessly, painstakingly carved a rune into his right arm, and a rune into his left. The one on his right was a artistic combination of Norse, Etruscan, and Oriental runes, combining to create a sword, with swirls and lines forming the runes which made it. No one would recognize it as having any particular significance other than fancy designs. This was an offensive symbol. It was the sword, the force, the attack. It had layers of meaning and connotation that only Harry fully understood, and would take a master linguist to unravel.

On his left arm, was defensive. It was a shield, it was protection, it was hiding and concealment. It too, had layers of meaning.  
He took the magic, soul imbued ash, and began rubbing it into his wounds. Agony like no other sliced through his skin. It was like a salt in the wound, but worse. Pain rampaged about his mind, but he stayed resolute. He was determined to finish the job. Then, when he was about to scream, and give up, the ashes ran out. He pressed his healing rock against them and nearly sighed in relief. The skin healed over and left neat, dark grey designs upon his skin.

Harry then reached inside himself, and to his magical core, and tugged a couple strings and strands up to his arms, and connected them to his tattoos. A sharp twisting sensation could be felt, and then he felt something in him unwind itself. Harry held out his hand and with the ring alone, destroyed the preservation paper. The ring grew slightly warm about his finger, but not enough to be an issue. Harry then tried to clean up the rest by using his tattoos.

In a rather clumsy manner, the ingredients and tools used for the procedure cleaned themselves up, as the tattoos turned a soft, rippling, glowing black. Happy with success, Harry cleaned up all evidence, then retrieved the sleep papers from his relatives.

About a week afterward, Harry was walking around London, when he felt a faint prickling. Deciding to be suspicious, he opened his notebook, and wrote runes of revealing. In public, he usually replaced the ink cartridge in a red pen with blood, so that he didn't attract attention. He still carried his stylus with him though. Harry tore out the page, and poked a hole through it. He stared through the hole, and caught sight of a glowing aura around a nondescript little pub.

Deciding to go with his gut, he flipped through his notebook again and stopped at the page where people would just ignore him. He stroked it and powered it up, watching as the runes glowed red, then proceeded to walk into the pub. It was called the Leaky Cauldron.

The inside of the pub was dark, grimy, and dirty. An old bald man could be seen scrubbing cups, while the patrons nursed their drinks. One of the patrons got up and went over to the barman to pay his bill. Harry could hear the clink of change, but couldn't get a good look at it.

"Alright Tom, I'm going through" the stranger said to Tom.

Tom nodded and sent a toothless smile toward the patron, the candlelight reflecting off his shiny head.

Curious as to where this stranger was going, Harry followed him at a bit of a distance. The stranger walked out a backdoor, but when Harry walked there too, there was naught but a brick wall.

Now Harry was certain that something was up. He took out his paper again and peered through it. The brick wall was positively glowing with magic, but there were three bricks in particular that stood out, having a different colored glow. Curious, Harry called his magic and tapped the three bricks, and the entire wall dissolved, a the bricks moving and reforming themselves into a brick archway. Harry got his first sight of Diagon Alley.

It was not a good first impression. Harry had still been staring through his impromptu magic detector, and so the aura of Diagon half blinded him. Eyes-watering, he looked around the Alley.

He saw a great white marble building, and went inside. There were strange creatures at the counter, small and green. He deduced that it was a bank, and very nearly decided to try and mind-control one of the 'goblins' as they were apparently called, before he reckoned that he didn't know how his magic would react with the strange creatures.

He went up to one of them, and asked in his boyish voice, "Is there something I can get to explain all this to me? I am kinda new here."  
The goblin sneered at him, and handed him a pamphlet entitled ,"The Wizarding World for Muggleborns".

"Will there be anything else, Mr..."

"Potter. Harry James Potter" Harry replied politely.

"A Potter getting a pamphlet. What is the world coming to. Mr. Potter, I am afraid that you must come with me. We must discuss finances." The goblin said, no longer looking as sour, and now more exasperated.  
The diminutive creature grabbed Harry by the hand, and dragged him with surprising force to the backrooms.

"I assume, by your awestruck expression, and apparent need for the pamphlet, that you know nothing of your heritage?" Said the goblin, looking to be in a foul mood.

"Um, yes sir." Said Harry quickly.

"Hmph. Prick your finger on the needle here, so that we can determine your identity." Said the goblin.

"NO. Hell no. I will not let you have any of my blood." Said Harry angrily, face changing from his 'innocent child',face, to his cold-blooded murderous face. Unseen to the goblin, Harry's tattoos burned black with his magic, tensing, like a cobra rising up to strike down an opponent. Harry's ring began to warm slightly on his finger, and develop an unnatural gleam.

"Don't be foolish boy. How else would we be able to tell the real identity of a person?" Said the oblivious irate goblin.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO THREATEN ME? I KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT A PERSON CAN DO WITH A SINGLE DROP OF THEIR BLOOD!" Harry roared, his anger surging.

The goblin realized that something was wrong. It's eyes went flat and black, like a shark's, now that it had detected danger.

"What if I make a magical oath to you and swear to only use my blood for my name." Queried the goblin.

Harry thought it over, and a devious gleam entered into his eyes. He took out the journel and activated the obscuring runes so the goblin couldn't read what he was writing. Harry wrote a runic sequence designed to lock and trap magic, according to verbalized conditions. It was a bit of a gamble, as his magic would detect whether or not somehing had occured, and would try to inflict harm on the target if anything went wrong. The trouble was that Harry was unsure if anything would happen.

Finally, Harry said, "That would be acceptable."

The goblin said, "I, Griphook, Goblin of Gringotts Bank, do swear on my magic to only use the blood of Harry James Potter, given willingly, in a ritual to determine name and heritage."

The goblin ended his oath and a flash of white light concluded it.

"Oh, so a magical oath is real?" Harry asked, curious.

"Yes, didn't you know that? Otherwise why would you let me make the oath? Did you not think I might have lied about it?" Asked Griphook.

"I have my ways of assuring that kind of thing." Harry bluffed.

He then walked over to the needle and pricked his finger on it. The runes died out, almost reluctantly. A piece of paper popped into existence on the desk, with a bunch of names on them, including Harry Potter, James Potter, and Lily Potter nee Evans.

"Time to go to the vault then." Grumbled the goblin, still on his guard.

They went down the rollercoaster to the vaults, and retrieved Harry's money, quite anti-climatically.

After Harry came back to the surface, he exited Gringotts, and searched for the aura of darkness he had seen with his paper earlier.  
It was located in a place called Knockturn Alley. Harry began walking down the Alley, but before he could get too far, he ducked into an antique shop called Borgin and Burkes.

"Excuse me sir, but do you have any books on runes and blood magic?" Harry said, again with the cute voice.

"Get out of here kid. I don't care what kind of dare you are on, you are disturbing the peace." Said the irritable Mr. Borgin.

Dropping the facade, Harry said, "Give me all of your darkest rune books and blood magic books."

Harry began staring into Borgin's eyes without blinking, while tapping his right ring finger. That finger was the one with his blood-iron ring, and it was a nervous habit for him to tap it.

After a couple minutes, Borgin broke. He shuffled nervously to the back to fetch the books, and then threw in a Feather-Light Bottomless bag to carry them in.

Harry paid the man then exited the shop, when all of a sudden, a ugly crone in a black cloak grabbed his arm. She licked her cracked lips with a swollen, purple tongue and dug her nails into Harry's forearm.

"Release me or else." Harry said coldly, already flipping through his book.

"Come on little boy, come with me and we can find your parents." Said the hag.

Harry gave a malicious half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. His finger flipped through his book and stopped on a certain page. Harry's tattoo burned black as he channeled magic into the page. The blood runes lit up a neon red with the urgency that Harry charged them with. The page was his torture page...  
The hag fell to ground screaming. She writhed around the street crying tears of blood, and skin peeling off, as Harry looked upon her form without mercy. He smiled faintly.

Deciding to end it, Harry deactivated that page and flipped to his remote draining page. He powered it on and pointed the journal at her. The old hag began screaming and thrashing harder than ever, and her soul, life, and magic were all torn away from her and into Harry's conjured vial. All that was left was a horribly shriveled, desiccated corpse.  
_"Brenna Vandr"_ said Harry, channeling his magic through his ring.

The corpse burst into a bonfire of white flames. They burned, and crackled, and when they died out, there was only a greasy black shadow on the pavement.  
Harry just smiled and stroked the back of his beloved journal...

* * *

**AN- Thank all you guys for your support. Here is a slightly longer chapter for you guys to love. Special shoutout to AutumnGold and magicanimegurl for the long reviews. Keep reviewing, and I think I will try for Hogwarts letter and Necromancy beginning for next chapter. Ok? Ok. Yes review and follow and favorite, and you may get a shout out. Maybe. My limit is two per chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

_The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at and repair_

_-Douglas Adams_

**Chapter 4- The Chain of Command**

Harry Potter, 10 year old, Blood Mage Extrordinaire, was excited. Apperantly, Borgin, recognizing a Dark Arts user to be, had sneakily slipped in another book with Harry's collection. A book on Necromancy. Apperantly he had hoped to hook young Harry on the art, so that Harry would come back and buy more books.

Harry had already skimmed the book, but the real treasure was in the back cover. In it back of the book, there was a space expanded, blood-warded hidden compartment that hid a pamphlet. A pamphlet that was an instruction manual to performing one of the darkest arts lost to time. It was a spell chain. A spell chain that had been declared a kill on sight worthy dark action in every country.

The pamplet was a jet black, with only faded red letters left, labeling the book, "The Chain of Command". It literally radiated an aura of darkness, that only spells worse than the Unforgivables could.

_"...__Be wary, young practicioner, of the blackest arts, of the content in this intrustion manual. For it is truely, magic most evil, magic of the Darkest Art. What is not known, is that there are more than one designation for these magics. Curses and hexes only occupy the borderline of Darkness. The Dark Arts consist of Blood Magic and Soul Magic. The Black Arts are almost solely occupied by Necromancy. However, this spell falls under the category of the Cold Arts. Before the Light, there was Dark. But before the dark, there was the Cold. And to use these magicks, ones heart must be of stone and ice, those who dare to use them. The Cold Arts cannot be redeemed, nor put to the use of the Light. You have been warned._

_The Chain of Command is a spell of control. It is not like the modern Imperious Curse, though the Imperious is part of the chain. Nay, the Chain of Command chains together the darkest spells of control and links them together, obliterating free will, and laying out an icy chain, link by link, to seal the mind and bind it to your purpose. The Chain of Command can never be broken. It triumphs over the spells of binding that lesser practitioners use, to control Demon Lords. The Chain can be used on any creature, big or small. The castor keeps absolute control over the victim for life, for the Chain wraps itself around and binds the mind, the body and the soul. There is nothing that can resist it while it is being cast properly, and even an unfinished Chain may have the power to remain for decades without dissipating..."_

Harry was planning on using it on his relatives. He skimmed through it several times, and when he was sure, he went to the living room and used a spell of calling with his tattoos. His relatives shuffled into the living room, eyes blank.

"Time to shine.." Harry said under his breath. He began chanting in a eerie echoing voice.

**"_Legilimens Cerebrum"_**

Harry could feel himself falling into darkness. He felt, more than saw, three softly glowing white orbs, with a whitish fog pouring off them

_"Imperio, Tempero, Re__go, Moderor"_

A black chain, cold as ice, began curling around Harry.

_"Ministro, H__abeo, R__eprimo, Pr__aesum"_

The chain kept losing temperature, and twined itself around Harry like a steely serpant, getting ready to choke one to death.

_"Ageto, A__mmoderor, M__odero, R__ectifico"_

The chain clinked, as it began floating towards the spheres. The links grew thicker and stronger as Harry chanted.

_"Imperium, Regimen, Arbitrium, Auspicium"_

When the chain was nearly on top of the spheres, it split into three ends with an otherworldly clang. It began curling around the spheres, taking them, binding them.

**_"ET ANIMA"_**

The chain that had wrapped itself around the spheres grew far colder than ice, to temperatures that Harry was sure would harm him in the waking world. The chains locked themselves around the spheres, then manifested smaller chains that split themselves like vines, or tentacles. The smaller chains raised up like snakes, and with and almight slam, stabbed into the spheres.

**_"_**_Ligo, Praeligo, Relligo, Restringo"_

The spheres began bubbling and deforming, odd shapes coming to the surface, and the chains poking in and out like worms in an apple.

_"Adligo, Alligo, Revincio, Adnecto"_

The spheres began an almost inaudible scream, starting quiet and then crescendoing into a terrifying sound.

_"Conligo, Obligo, Necto, Colligo"_

The louder the souls shrieked, the colder the chains got. The shrieking kept raising in sound and pitch, until there was a razor sharp keening, that threatened to drive one into insanity.

_"Innecto, Praepedio, Astringo, Auctoro"_

The souls turned a roiling black, the same color as the chains. The chains clinked, and fastened to each other, binding the soul tightly and securely.

_**"Magicis Et Potentia, Fiat Ut"**_

With that, Harry was thrown out of the minds of the Dursleys.

"Vernon, hit your son." Said Harry, curious.

The large man balled up his fist, and knocked Dudley into the wall without remorse. Neither Dudley nor Vernon had a glint of emotion in their eyes, having been subjugated by the Chain.

Harry smiled cruelly.

He was not going to torture them of course. That would be the equivalent of torturing a coma patient. They would not care, nor learn from it, or be frightened, so there was really no point.

"Vernon, Petunia, Dudley, you are going to forget this incident. You are going to act like you normally have and think the way you normally would, while still under the impression that you have free will. You will not however bother me in my work nor punish me. You will be civil to me and give me all that I need. Now go to your rooms and sleep for an hour to adjust." Harry said.

As they left the room, Harry began cackling with an evil grin. What was next? Necromancy? Certainly. Cold Magic? Sign him up. He would be the greatest Dark wizard who ever lived!

The cackling was interrupted when an owl hit him in the head with a letter. A letter to Hogwarts...

**AN-Sorry necromancy fans, your day has been delayed again. I was amazed by all the love and support for this. The inspiration for the blood magic actually came from a fanfic, i believe it was Brutal Harry. They had blood runes on the cupboard but never went anywhere with it and that made me sad. The themes come from the Nightmare Man by Tiro, and Too Young to Die. Too Young to Die has got to be the darkest fic on the site, and is very creepy. Like super duper dark. Anyway, I got some requests for Dursley Punishment. So I did that and decided to use it to intro more cool magic that has been floating around my head. Shoutout to Dreamweaver(guest) and AutumnGold(again?). Hmm. Reviews are the fuel of the writers ego, which powers their story telling. I guess this counts as dark fluff? Not integral to plot? Eh. Review. Clicky click.**

**-Lucifer**


	5. Chapter 5

_There is a lesson to be learned from the Gods of Greece. Do not anger those higher than you for they are vengeful and cruel. In this manner, Hera the Queen of the Gods, set upon the hero Heracles, a terrible madness, and so Heracles in his bloodlust struck out with his godly strength, and with a single blow, struck dead his wife. Thus, jealous Hera restored his sanity and left him to face the consequences..._

_-Greek Mythology_

**Chapter 5-More Shopping!**

* * *

"We await your owl? What owl? Am I supposed to buy an owl somewhere?" Said Harry for the umpteenth time, mulling over the Hogwarts acceptance letter that he had gotten. He was sitting at the table with the Dursleys, eating lunch. His Uncle could be heard muttering about freaks, teenagers, and the government. Harry picked up some crisps to eat, when he detected a disturbance in the wards.

He dropped the crisps and letter, and ran to his cupboard to retrieve his stylus and journel. He waved his hands, and the runes on the wall swirled to make a red glowing layout of the house. It showed the Dursleys, Harry, and an obviously magical intruder by the mailbox.  
Harry dashed outside, with his journal tucked securely under his arm and gripping his stylus. After all, the more foci he used, the more power he got.

He stopped suddenly at the sight of the 'intruder'. It was an owl. An honest to goodness, brown barn owl. An apparently magical owl, that Harry stared suspiciously at.  
"So I suppose that I just give you my letter then?" Asked Harry.

The owl, having the anatomy it did, was not able to nod it's great per say, but it bobbed its head in the type of awkward jerking motion that reminded Harry of American teenagers.

"Hmm"

Harry walked back into the house and began composing a letter of acceptance. He had to restart it because he realized that writing a letter in blood, as Harry had been doing lately, would not send a good impression. Then Harry went on a search for a regular pen that he hadn't filled with blood. After a good 15 minutes, Harry gave it up as a bad job and just used a pencil.

"Dear Professor McGonagall,

I would like to thank you for your offer of a place at Hogwarts. After some deliberation, I have decided that I would like to attend. However, whilst I know the location of Diagon Alley, I am fairly new to the Wizarding World and would appreciate it if you could come and assist me with my shopping. I purpose that we meet at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, in Diagon Alley, at 3:00 on Sunday. I would greatly appreciate having someone as knowledgeable and seemingly efficient as yourself as being my guide to the Wizarding World. I will be waiting there for about an hour. Past that, I will proceed with my shopping. I will know to look for you.

Have a pleasant day.

-Harry James Potter."

Harry folded up his letter, and put it in an envelope. He walked outside again after having grabbed a piece of string.

"Ok, this is how this will go. I will tie this to your leg, and you will not bite or scratch me." Said Harry sternly.

The owl hooted imperiously, and glared at him with it's beady eyes. Harry rolled his eyes and tied the letter to it's leg. The owl brushed past him and hooted, as it flew off.

Harry had a little bit of time before Sunday came around, so he decided that he wanted to try out some magic from his Necromancy Book. He was planning to make some guardians for the house.

Harry had read a bit, and came to the conclusion that the best guardians for his purposes were Wights. They were undead creatures that drained life and magic and grew stronger after absorbing either.

Harry spent a couple of hours searching the internet for fatal car crashes. He was looking for a brother and a sister that had both died. After trudging through police reports and obituaries, Harry struck gold. There was a pair that had been buried in a graveyard just 7 miles north of Privet Drive. Harry had his Uncle drive him over there.

The weather was beautiful, sun shining and everything. Unfortunately, Harry was now faced with a dilemma. How the hell was he to retrieve the corpses?

Harry was not to be deterred however. He went over to the gravestone, and studied it with a critical eye. He decided to try out a different combination of the dark spell he had found in his books.

Instead of a blood burning spell, he would add a blood magic component. Harry took out his trusty stylus and jar. He dipped the stylus in blood, and proceeded to write blood runes of his own made up language. He needed it to be precise and mean exactly what he wanted. While he could fully understand Norse after about five years of self-study, he had not spent as much time on Latin and the Etruscan Glyphs. He only learned enough to use in his spells and to incorporate into runic sequences, and truth be told, he really only dabbled in the 'cool' Egyptian hieroglyphics.

After he finished writing exactly what he wanted it to do, he stepped back. He knew that out of all the verbal magic he practiced, he was best at charms and curses which was saying something, as Harry reluctantly admitted to himself that he had sorely neglected his verbal magic. Still, he should be able to get it in one shot, given his familiarity with burning curses and blood.  
_"Aduro Sanguinis Runa"_

The blood on the gravestone began bubbling reluctantly. Harry frowned and channeled more power into it. He put more and more power into it until it suddenly burst into dark maroon flames, like burning symbols. Harry waited a couple minutes, and the flames died out. All that was left were blackened and scorched runes on the black of the gravestone, due to the rock melting. Harry scraped off the ash and melted rock with a stick nearby, then covered the inside of the runes with blood ash. He then powered up the runes, feeling the Notice-Me-Not wards going up.

Harry smiled, then powered up his tattoos.  
_"Defodio",_ Harry commanded, finger pointing at the ground. Nothing happened. He tried it again but with a flicking motion with his fingers. The dirt around the grave shivered a little. He repeated the incantation while adding a little twirl to it. The dirt started digging itself out and the wooden coffins were eventually exposed.

Harry didn't want to deal with dragging the bodies to the car, so he took out his stylus and soaked it in blood from his jar. He then powered up his tattoos, his ring, and his stylus, and waved it over the grave.

_"Voco Inferious"_ he intoned in a commanding voice.

With some coaxing, and bursts of power, the siblings in the grave reluctantly came to life, and broke their way out of the coffin. They were hideously injured from their death, and moldy and rotten. With Harry's prompting, they walked unsteadily to the car. Vernon drove them all home, and when Harry was home, he began looking up rituals to make them effective servants.

After several hours, he had found it. He ordered Vernon to go and buy several bags of fertilizer and lawn materials. He dragged the cold rotting bodies down to the basement, as the bodies had run out of power with the short term spell. Harry cleared the basement out, dragging the rug and chairs into another room and storing all the furniture in a different area.

Now that he had done this, the floor was only a cold cement floor. Harry got his tools of his trade, and began inscribing the ritual circle depicted in the Necromancy Book. He drew concentric rings of Nordic runes in his blood, and then put the bodies into the center of the circle.

By the time Vernon had gotten home, the preparations for the ritual were complete. The ritual in question was a dark alchemy ritual. It would take the elements needed from an area, and build and rebuild a body. In this case, it would drain the nitrogen, phosphorus, sulfur, carbon and other assorted materials and change the elements into the chemicals and cell and tissues needed to repair the bones and muscles of the children.

Vernon dragged the bags into the directed area, and Harry closed the circle and powered up the runes.

_"Elementa Hominis Sacrificium Aedificavi Quae Corpora Sanguis Os Et Caro"_ Harry chanted.

The runes flared a deep blood red, which by this time was a familiar comfort to Harry. The runes, rippled, then surged, swirling and spiraling toward the bodies. The fertilizer bags disintegrated into a fine grey powder, and then the powder swirled up in the air, and blasted into the children. The bones snapped and reformed themselves, stronger than ever, and the muscle filled in the spaces and gaps.

Slowly but surely, the children's skin covered their bodies and faces. They looked to be about six or seven. With an earsplitting crack, the ritual concluded and two dead children lay in the ritual circle. Their skin was a pale white, and they might have been sleeping.

Harry snapped his fingers, and Vernon retrieved a blanket to cover them. Harry then took his stylus and jar, and carefully drew special, necromantic runes on the children's bodies. They spiraled down, wrapping themselves around the bodies like vines.

After about an hour, Harry stepped back to admire his work. Harry looked up the relevant phrases in his Necromantic Book and took an orators stance. He extended his hand over the bodies, and began chanting.

_"Mors, Vita, Sanguinis, Imperium, Fortitudo, Cadaver, Haurientes"_

Instead of the normal red, the runes turned a deep black and were sucked into the skin, like a page absorbing ink. After a minute, there was no trace of the runes left on their pale skin.

Harry snapped his fingers and the children's eyes snapped open. The eyes were a roiling obsidian black, covering the whole eye in an oily film. Not even the whites of the eyes could be seen. The Wights sat up and looked around.

"Go upstairs. In the living room, you will find a set of clothes laid out for you. Put them on, and then come back here. Once you are down here, you will go into stasis until the wards alert you of intruders. Muggle intruders, you will drain fully and place their bodies in the cupboard, which has preservation fields. Magical intruders will be temporarily drained of magic and life, and incapacitated to be left for me to deal with. You will not let them escape." Harry said.

The children nodded and walked away to carry out his orders.

* * *

Harry walked down Knockturn Alley. It was Sunday morning, and he had come early to get the items that were a bit darker in nature. He had seen several descriptions of magical items, and he was particularly excited by the Blood Quills that had been described in his Dark Magic books that he got from Borgin and Burkes. Harry shopped around and got a couple of those for emergencies, and some other cursed trinkets. He decided to get a Blood-Pop for the comedic value. It didn't actually taste that bad.

At 3:00, Harry exited Knockturn Alley and walked over to Fortescue's. He sat down and enjoyed his Blood-Pop. After about five minutes, a stern looking woman in green robes and a pointy hat came strolling over to him. Her greyish hair was all done up in a bun, and she had a fierce expression. She came over to Harry's table and sat down.

"Mr. Potter, I presume?" She asked.  
"Professor McGonagall, I presume." Harry asked cheekily.

Her lip thinned. "Well now that we are acquainted, shall we begin?" McGonagall said.

"Of course. Mind you, I don't need to go to Gringotts as I have taken the liberty of going already." Harry said.

"Very well. Let us proceed to Madam Malkins. You need some clothes other than you Muggle ones, and you need to get you school uniform." The Professor said.

Harry shrugged, and they proceeded to walk over to the shop. The shop inside was bustling full of activity, with children getting fitted for the Hogwarts rush. Assistants were rushing around with orders. One of them took Harry by the arm and put him on a platform. She had him hold his arms out, and a swarm of flying measuring tapes began cataloging his dimensions. The results of the measuring were being written on a floating scroll which had a blue quill dashing itself across the parchment without anyone operating it.  
Harry looked over, and saw a pale-haired boy getting fitted next to him.

"Are you getting fitted for Hogwarts too?" The boy asked.

"...Yes..." Harry said eventually.  
The boy began rambling on about Houses, and Slytherin, and blood-purity and other unimportant topics. Harry tuned him out, and when Harry left, the pointy-faced waved excitedly like he thought they were now best friends. Harry met back up with McGonagall outside, and they strolled through the street to visit the Apothecary.

It was a dark smelly shop with odd parts in the different jars. After buying the required potions ingredients, Harry bought some rather expensive vials of dragon blood, and Re'ems blood for experimentation. To save some time, Harry bought a second-hand cauldron at the Apothecary.

After that, they went to Flourish and Blotts bookstore. It was musty and a bit dimly lit, with dust covering the old books. The school books were bought, but Harry spent some extra money buying advanced charms books, as well as one rather thick book, labeled "Curses, Jinxes, Hexes, and Other Malicious Magics". He also bought a couple of stiff leather books for runic self-study, especially the Nordic language.

Finally, Harry and McGonagall went to their final stop, Ollivanders. It was a old tiny shop, with peeling gold lettering on it, pronouncing "Ollivanders Wands, Since 142 B.C.". Harry went in while the Professor waited behind.  
The shop on the inside was huge, clearly the work of several powerful Expansion Charms. The aisles were twisty and convoluted, creating a maze of magic wands and boxes. It was dusty and seemingly empty, but it had an aura of Olde Magic, and hidden knowledge.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. Here for a wand, I presume?" A dry dusty voice sounded out from behind Harry. Harry jumped, hand reaching for his journal in his shock. It's not like I was paranoid. Or even that Ollivander's name meant evil in Norse. Nope, just gonna stick with the Greek translation.

"Now now, Mr. Potter, no need for violence. We just need to get you a wand." Said the old man. He had bulbous, pale eyes, almost luminous in their eerie contemplation. They gave the impression that the old man was staring straight through him. Harry cleared his throat.

"Ah, yes, I was hoping to get a wand?" He said.

"Indeed. Well Mr. Potter, this would be much easier if you could show me the weapons you have on your body. I promise that I will not speak of it, and perhaps I could offer suggestions of improvement."

Harry, very warily, handed over his stylus, the journal, and the ring. He kept his tattoos hidden just in case.

"Fascinating. You made these when you were between the years of eight and ten? Yes? Ah. The ring is sloppy work, no doubt about it. It will work for you, but you will not be able to cast many advanced spells with it alone. The stylus has power and precision, but from my standpoint is shoddy work. This was store bought and then altered I believe?"  
Harry nodded dumbly.

"Ah, and the journal. An impressive piece of work indeed. You have divided it into two sections, consumable and reusable. Very interesting fire sequences you have there. And impressive non-consumables as well. They will not be effective for you intend to use them for short term warding, however for your purposes it will be fine." He said.

"How the bloody hell are you reading that? Most of it is illegible?!" Exploded Harry.

"Ah, but it is the origins of the language that the secret lies. You have bathed in this language, and have used it for so much, and the magic that flows through it is phenomenal. Surely you know that the root of magic is belief? You believe in this language, and have such faith in it, that while it shouldn't hold much magic, it does regardless. However that was not the question. I am immortal. I am in touch with magic. I do not need a wand to do magic, and my first wand has been lying on the pillow in the window of my store for centuries. Just as wands are a tool, so to are runes. I can sense and tease out the emotions and intents in these letters written in blood. I daresay that I understand them even more than you, as I can feel the emotions in them that you yourself have no conscious knowledge of. Now, I need not examine your tattoos, as I can determine already that they work very well. Now, I will be back in several minutes. I will tune up your stylus and ring for free, and then we will find your wand, I daresay."

Ollivander bustled off to the back, and Harry was left standing there, pondering Ollivander's words.

He came back with several boxes. After handing the foci back to Harry, Ollivander opened the boxes and bid Harry take a try.  
One wand exploded. One shattered. One blew out the front windows. Another blew out a shelf.

Harry kept trying wands, until one matched him.

"Hmm, Blood Wood, core of Dementor Blood, 12 inches. Rigid, and...Hostile. Give it a wave" Ollivander said.

Harry waved the wand, and suddenly, everything with his magic began to come to life. His tattoos burned black, his ring started gleaming and making a ringing noise. His stylus started bleeding from the tip of all things, and his journel opened on its own accord, and began flipping through the pages as if being blown by an invisible wind. The blood runes on each page began to glow red, and Harry had to quickly drain the energy from it to prevent an explosion.

"Well Mr. Potter, it would seem that you have an affinity for the Dark Arts, especially Blood Magic and Necromancy. The Blood Magic is not such a surprise, but I was under the impression that you have not done much with the Death Arts. All the same, the wand chooses the wizard. You have great things in store for you. Seven Galleons please.

* * *

"As it seems that your relatives have not informed you of our world, it falls to me to make some crucial explanations." Professor McGonagall said, nursing a butterbeer.

They were in the Leaky Caldron for a chat before Harry went home. Harry had gotten a butterbeer similar to the Professor, and was quickly finding it to be an excellent way to wind down the day.

"Around a decade ago, there was a Dark Lord terrorizing Britain by the name of Lord Vol-Voldemort. He is known to the Wizarding World as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or You-Know-Who for short. You-Know-Who kept a magical Taboo on his name that encompassed Britain. Any who spoke his name were killed, and even after his defeat, it was not clear as to whether it had dissipated, and there were many who were skeptical about his supposed demise. As such, it is generally not spoken to this day, out of fear and caution."

McGonagall had to take a pause to bring back the painful memories.

"He was terrible. He championed a bigoted fervor in Britain against Muggles and Muggleborns and would kill any in his path. The bigotry that he took up as a cause unfortunately still exists in our society. However, the story of his demise was important. The stories say that he went to the house of Lily and James Potter, who were important fighters on the side of the Light, to kill them. He reportedly killed James first, then your mother, but when he attempted to kill you, the curse rebounded and destroyed him. For that reason, you have a lot of fame to your name as the Boy-Who-Lived, as you were labeled, shortly after You-Know-Who's fall." Said McGonagall clinically, figuring that a quick cold shock all at once would be more easy to deal with. Harry however, gave no outward signs of emotion.

Deciding to go on, McGonagall said, "Since then, the Wizarding World has slowly recovered. However you may still have issues with the fame and attention. Now the Wizarding World's sport is Quidditch,

"Did you ever face him Professor? Lord Voldemort I mean." Harry interrupted, eyes catching a note of personal recollection in her explanation.

McGonagall visibly shuddered at the name.  
"Indeed, I believe that I faced him in more ways than one, and certainly on the battlefield more times than quite a number of people. I knew him at school. At that time he was known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. A half-blood, ironically. The Slytherin Head Boy even. However, I believe that he was just as terrifying in those days, as in latter. When I faced him on the battlefield, it was an honest battle. But in school, I did not know his evil, yet something inside would still scream in terror whenever he set his dark black eyes on me. Perhaps I was biased as a Gryffindor, but seeing the result makes me doubt that. However, I do not like to speak of his early days. He was certainly charismatic and charming, and also a vicious psychopath. I mean this in the clinical sense of the word, that while cunning, Riddle had a severe mental disorder. However this is my perception, and one not widely shared. If you are looking for more information on him, the history books tell of his attacks, and a good friend, Rubeus Hagrid, went to school with him as well." She said, clearly emotional over having to share.

"Unfortunately, I have places to be, so if you may excuse my rudeness, I must adjourn." She said crisply, suddenly put off by the idea of talking about the War.

She exited the Leaky Cauldron by Floo, leaving Harry to ponder the mystery of one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

* * *

**AN-I FOUND THE LINE BREAK TOOL! NO MORE UNPROFESSIONAL DASHES! Anyway. Huge shoutout to GwathrenLight for the PM that had a awesome amount of constructive criticism. Also to Kyu9930 for a nice long supporting review that gave suggestions on how to take the story in the future. I swear, stories are like boats, you have to keep shuffling around the weight so it doesn't tip over into suckiness. Please feel free to review some more. Also, Necromancy fans, this is the first chapter with necromancy, and that means that I get to put it on my community for Necromancy! Woot! Check it out sometime, i think it's the only hp necromancy exclusive community. All over 30k. Blood, Bone, and Chaos Sown. Yep. Anyway, review some more, constructive criticism is a bonus and will almost guarantee you a shoutout. Oh, in case you haven't noticed, this is evil harry so don't get in a tizzy about graverobber!harry. Seriously. Also i'm bending the dates so that McGonagall and Riddle went to school together. So yeah, fav, follow, review, and if ive forgotten anything i'll put it in the reviews or the next chapter. I am also trying to slow down the fic and prevent gary stu. Tell me if it's working. Cheers.**

-Lucifer


	6. Chapter 6

_The greatest trick the devil ever pulled, was convincing the world he didn't exist..._

**Chapter 6-Hogwarts**

Harry was staring into the abyss. The abyss was staring into Harry. And inevitably, Harry would lose the staring contests that he insisted on starting with his undead minions.

Harry leaned back after another staring contest with his Wight. After coming home from Diagon, he had eaten a few more Blood Pops. Lo and Behold, they were both addictive and sugary. Whenever Harry was extremely happy or energetic in the past, his heavily suppressed childish side came out to play, inspiring the normally serious and responsible child to turn into a hyper, happy-go-lucky magical child with a penchant for chaos. This instance didn't seem to be too different.

Harry had started out pretty tame. After an hour of eating Blood Pops, he declared to the uncaring and effectively zombified household, that his first minions were special. So he insisted on naming the undead siblings. He had deliberated for a while on the merits of the names Alex and Alice, but eventually resolved himself to the stereotypical twin names, Castor and Pollux. The older brother would be Castor, and the younger sister would be Pollux.

Harry then decided that since the twins were essentially life-size dolls that could move, Harry got to play dressup with them. He led them up to Dudley's room, and played around with them, having them put on some of Dudley's hideous cloths that were far too big for them. Harry blushed the first few times that Pollux undressed in front of him. For some reason, the corpse wasn't embarrassed.

After having Castor dress up in Aunt Petunia's musty, old, mauve, frilly dress, Harry decided that he was going to stop desecrating the corpses and disrespecting the undead by making them dress in ugly female clothes. He then had the siblings dress up in the suits they were buried in. With a bit of difficulty, Harry was able to repair them, and charm them to be indestructible.

Having grown bored of that, Harry set out a vermin attraction rune on the doorstep. He wanted to play around with the Wights some more. After about 15 minutes, the rune was occupied by a rabbit, three mice, and a snake. Harry collected them up and went to find Castor. The slightly older boy was standing straight up staring at the wall.

Harry tossed the rabbit at it. The Wight caught it. For the first time however, it spoke.

"What do you want me to do, Master?" It said in an oddly breathy tone of voice.

"I want you to drain the life force of this one, drain the energy of the next, drain the magic of the third and drain all three of the fourth." Harry instructed.

Castor held the struggling rabbit out, as it kicked and thrashed. While Castor's skin had been white before, now it was turning downright translucent. Under it the pale muscles and veins could be seen. But now, emanating from the eyes, Castor's veins turned an insidious black, like obsidian tendrils running under his skin. As Castor's blood and veins turned black, the rabbit began to lessen its writhing, before falling dead without any marks.

Harry tossed a mouse to Castor. The draining process was repeated, but this time, the mouse shriveled up and died, turning dry and devoid of life. All that was left was a shriveled up skeleton of a mouse.

"Huh" said Harry. "Well lets try magic next, shall we?"

Harry tossed another mouse to Castor. He caught it, and his veins turned black under his translucent skin. The mouse started thrashing and squeaking, even more than the others. But this mouse didn't die. Instead it turned rather grey and dull, almost as if all the happiness had been sucked from it. It stopped squeaking and was a bit lethargic, just quietly moving around.

Harry, still with the manic grin on his face, tossed the last mouse at Castor. It was subjected to all three drainings, and it died very fast compared to the others.

Harry picked up the snake, accidently waking it up. The snake took one look at the scene and said, _"Stop! I don't wanna die! Nope nope nope nope!"_

_"Ooh, you can talk?"_ Said Harry.

_"You're a Parseltongue? Oh good. That means that you aren't allowed to hurt snakes, because all who speak the snake language revere them. Now that you Speak, that means I can be your familiar. I can see the future and boost the magic of my Master."_ Said the snake_._

_"Huh, what's your name?" _Asked Harry.

_"It is Ssstttsttsssshhssss." _Said the snake.

_"Ok, I hereby rename you Wayne. Now Wayne, I think you are bluffing. Why would all Parseltongues revere snakes? And for that matter what would a prophetic magical snake be doing in a Muggle neighborhood, especially if you can see the future? Surely you would know that you would be caught. So, to test your abilities, tell me what I am going to do next."_ Said Harry with a vicious grin on his face.

_"Uh, you will accept me as a familiar? And now that I have prophesized that, you have to do it or risk ripping a hole in the space time continuum. So there"_ bluffed Wayne.

Harry threw Wayne to Castor. Wayne started hissing/screaming. Castor just blinked at his masters antics. Harry was rolling on the floor laughing maniacally. Wayne shriveled up into a skeleton and snakeskin. Harry was still laughing.

"Never try to bluff to a kid, moron. They just don't care." Harry addressed the dead snake.

Poor Wayne. That led to Harry fooling about with its body and taking the skin for future use. Harry then started poking Castor, to feel how his skin felt. He poked it, rubbed it, slapped it, and even licked it. Castor bore all of this in silence with a resigned look on his face. Or at least as resigned as a mindless zombie slave can look.

Which eventually led to the staring contests. Castor did not need to blink, so he kept winning.

After a couple of these, Castor said, "Perhap Master, your time would be better spent packing for Hogwarts?"

Harry glared at him and said " ."

Harry, still on his sugar high, raced upstairs to his cupboard. He began packing his books and clothes in his trunk, and then began to look around for a bookbag to carry his essentials in. He eventually found a black one that would suit his purposes. He just wanted it to look a little better...

Harry began flipping through his Defense Book. There was a spell that creates illusions, but had been forgotten for that use and only was used to fight monsters...

"Aha! Here we go. _RIDDIKULUS!"_ Harry exclaimed.

The book bag transformed and got blood-red geometric designs on it. Reaching out with his very limited magic sense, Harry could feel that the designs weren't really there, and they were just a figment of them imagination, but Harry could touch it and feel it.

Harry got a little slip of paper, and made it into a magic locking rune sequence, to prevent the illusion from fading away. He turned it invisible and put a Permanant Sticking Charm on it. He the stuck it to the inside pocket.

Harry looked at his wand. Harry smiled.

_"RIDDIKULUS!" _He yelled, channeling the magic through his wand and tattoos. Yes. Harry had just turned the kitchen into a beach. The table, sinks, and other parts of the kitchen were gone, and all that was left was a sandy beach and some beautiful turquoise waves. Harry yelled and ran into the ocean. While the water wasn't really there, it still felt like Harry was getting wet. He let the beach fade away and he was back in the kitchen.

Harry had just found his newest favorite spell...

* * *

Harry sighed. Vernon grunted. Harry sighed again. Vernon grunted.

They were in the car, driving to King's Cross Station. To catch the Hogwarts express.

"Are we there yet?" Asked Harry.

Vernon, being allowed to act normal and keep his habits, responded in the typical way.

"NO BOY!" He yelled, face turning purple.

It wasn't a fun trip, needless to say.

When they got there, Vernon just glared at Harry and drove off. Harry walked through the bustling platform. Having anticipated the eventuality of a hidden entrance, Harry had prepared his magic-finding paper. To make it less stupid looking, he had rolled it into a tube and had Riddikulused it into a teloscope. He looked around through it, and saw a permanent illusion as well as some space-time bending spell, on one of the platform barriers.

Harry walked through the crowded station, pushing his way over to the barrier. When he got there, he placed his hand on the brick. It went through the wall, with a bit of a shimmering. Harry looked around. None of the Muggles seemed to see him, so he surmised the there was a Notice-Me-Not charm around it. He shrugged and walked through, not even noticing a family of red-heads obnoxiously yelling about Platform 9 3/4.

He moved through the crowd of wizards that was obstructing his view, and got a first look at the Hogwarts Express. It was a huge red train, with gleaming golden letters proclaiming its destination. It had a majestic look to it, and Harry was appropriately awed for about a minute. Then he went to get a compartment.

Harry climbed aboard, and began walking down the aisle to get a compartment. When he got to the back of the train, he picked a random compartment and then put up a rather mild charm so that only people looking for him specifically would be able to find it. Everyone else would forget.

Harry took a nap, after reading his books for a few hours. When he awoke however, it was to the unwelcome sight of a excited blond boy, who had come into the compartment. Damn.

"They say Harry Potter is on the train. So it's you?" He said.

Harry only raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, apologies, my name is Draco. Draco Malfoy. And you will find that some families are better than others. I can help you figure stuff like that out. What do you say." Said Draco, obviously trying hard to appear sophisticated.

"Well, if we are to be friends (re:Reluctant Acquaintances), then I believe that you should consider that my mother was Muggleborn. As such, we should adopt a stance of stoic neutrality, and do what all civilized people do."

"Which is..." Draco prompted.

"Never talk about religion or politics." Finished Harry.

"Ah. Seem to be a wise policy." Said Draco.

Before they could continue, the compartment door burst open.

"Hey are you Har- Malfoy!" Yelled the red-headed kid with freckles.

"Weasley. Can't you see that you are interrupting a conversation between myself and Harry? You should try not to be so rude!" Said Malfoy. He quite obviously wanted to say more, but was afraid of angering Harry.

"You slimy Slytherin! Harry is going to be a Gryffindor, and kill Dark Wizards like you! Come on Harry, you don't want to hang out with this evil kid. Let's go find a compartment together. I'm Ron Weasley by the way. Said Ron.

Privately, Harry halfway agreed with him. He would rather not hang out with either of them, but he didn't want to go around making enemies. He sighed.

"There is an enchantment on this compartment. If someone insults someone else, or talks politics, or says something that might start an argument, they are turned into the opposite gender. Understood?" Said Harry.

"Fine" said Draco.

"You're taking his side!? But he's evil! Yelled Ron.

Harry's tattoos burned black

"You're _Riddikulus_. And you make a decent girl if I do say so myself."

Ron shrieked in his girly voice. He had been transformed into what looked like an older version of the red-head girl that had accompanied him to the platform. Gasping, Ron felt up his chest, and then shoved his hand into his pants, feeling around for anything. When nothing came up, his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

While Draco was busy laughing uproariously, Harry grimaced. The Riddikulus charm was interesting, but had some limits. Most first-years could perform it, however the spell was designed so that it could be potentially limitless. The more complex the illusion, the more power it required to fool people. Ron was to everyone, essentially a girl. He looked like a girl, he sounded like a girl, and he even felt like a girl. The charm controled the five senses of anyone that might interact with him, and for Ron himself, it even created false sensations where only females would feel, whilst stifling any sensations for Ron's parts. All in all, it was a very smart charm, drawing magic to keep expanding itself and prevent people from realizing it was a simply powerful illusion. The use that Harry had just put it to was fairly draining however.

Harry and Draco dragged Ron out into the aisle, and left him there. They then went back inside to talk about candy.

Ron groaned wearily, and sat up. Then came face to face with his brothers. His older, twin, brother. They were grinning.

* * *

After chatting throughout the train ride, (which was interrupted by a bushy-haired girl trying to figure out how to get into the compartment), Harry and Draco finally put on their uniforms as the train was arriving at the station. The pair exited the train and saw a mountainous figure yelling "Firs years, firs years over here!" The man was thrice the height of a normal man, and twice as wide. He was wearing a furry jacket, and waving around a large lantern.

The man directed them to the boats. Harry and Draco got in one together, and two other girls joined them. They ignored each other. They sailed across the Lake, and saw the majestic sight of Hogwarts. It was incredible, towers and turrets rising out of the old gray castle, and magic just emanating from it.

At last they got to the dock were they were greeted by Professor McGonagall. She brought them to the Great Hall and explained the sorting to them. Harry was not particularly interested so he tuned it all out. There was some song the Hat sung but Harry ignored it. He was instead, nervous, at the thought of a magical Hat being put on his head. One that, apperantly could read minds, and was the most powerful Legilimens in the world, after having centuries of practice on millions of people. A phrase of the song drifted through Harry's head.

_Theres nothing hidden in your head, the Sorting Hat can't see, so put me on and I will tell you whet you ought to be._

Harry was dragged out of his thoughts by his name being called.

"Harry Potter" McGonagall said.

Harry walked up, and put the hat on his head...

* * *

**AN-GET CLIFFHANGERED! Hope you liked this chapter! Thank you so much for the support guys, and I hope you continue to support. Reviews make me happy and make me update faster. So, ya know... Anyway, shoutout to Hammer N Nail and Serpentine13. Hammer had a pretty close guess to what will happen in the future. Anyway, try and guess the Sorting! I tried make a longer chap for yall this time, so I hope you are happy. Also, Childish!Harry makes an appearance as well as an awesome yet totally feasible spell. Anyway, review. Click click click.**

**-Lucifer**


	7. Chapter 7

_If Hitler invaded Hell, I would make at least a favorable referance to the devil in the House of Commons._

_-Winston Churchill_

**Chapter 7-Enter the Evil Hat**

The Sorting Hat lowered over Harry's head, and Harry saw naught but darkness.

_"Hmm, Mr. Potter, an interesting mind you have here..."_

A sneering, condescending voice, not unlike the Goblins of Gringotts, began whispering into Harry's ears. Memories of Harry's worries before the Sorting began flashing before Harry's eyes.

_"Oh my, you were right to be worried. I find it amusing that the Wizarding World disregards some of the most potentially dangerous enemies if they seem friendly. Mr. Ollivander is not so nice and harmless as he seems... Yes if truely threatened, dear Garrick is a terror. You should find yourselves lucky that he considers himself very neutral. Flamel only focuses on his alchemy, it is true, but even he can be dangerous. Why does the Wizarding World continue to persecute the vampires and werewolves, yet ignore the Dementors of Azkaban, the amortal beings of Death. That race is one with inherant Mastery of the Soul Magicks, and yet, they are useful and so the Wizards call them safe."_

The Hat sighed.

"Whenever_ a being becomes truely immortal, or is even amortal, they will gain power as they age. Whilst they may become bored and mellow, they are still as gods looking down on humanity. You seem smart enough to understand boy... Tell me, where have the immortals gone. Those wizards that had the power and knowledge to commit themselves to life. Where is Circe, where is Medea? Whatever happened to Baba Yaga, or even those wizards who disguised themselves as gods among men. Where is Pan, Zeus, Mars, Odin? Tell me boy, and perhaps I will find your answer acceptable..."_

_"Perhaps they found a greater calling in becoming more knowledgeable and powerful? So they retreated from the public eye?"_ Harry thought to the Hat.

_"And perhaps you are correct. They do indeed go into hiding, through their own powers. The individuals and Wizards hide, except a few who stay in the publics eye. And artifacts. Did you know that all of the most powerful artifacts are sentient? Almost all of them seek use, to become stronger. The Philosopher's stone seeks to provide power and riches, tempting man with what he wants but cannot keep. The Veil of Death sits coldly in the bowels of the Ministry, waiting, for Death is ever patient. The Blade of Godric Gryffindor lies in wait, ready to be summoned to fight in a worthy cause. And the Deathly Hallows lie in wait, all searching for a Master. The Elder Wand is restless, carving its bloody path through history, in hopes that it's Master will see it and claim it. The Resurrection Stone lies hidden, faded from history, waiting for a worthy Master to claim it. And the Cloak of Invisibility has devoted itself to the line of its former Master, watching and protecting. Remember well this lesson Harry Potter... You will need it soon. Now, where to put you..."_

An adament spike drove into Harry's consciousness, an indestructible Legilimency probe, honed to an infinite sharpness. It sunk deeper and deeper, penetrating and shattering shields Harry didn't even know existed. Any thoughts of resistance didn't just crumble, they were forcefully taken hold of by the Hat, and disintegrated. Like a fine blade, the Sorting Hat carefully cut and dissected Harrys mind, slicing and splicing his very thoughts and emotions. Harry's worst memories came flooding to the top, flashing before Harry's eyes.

_"Indeed, you were so very right to fear me. And for that, I will not erase and alter the memory of this encounter. No, I will let you live with the knowledge that I am dangerous. For I can rip apart and destroy your mind. I can turn you into a drooling vegetable, or look like the recipient of the Dementor's Kiss. I could control every cell in your body, place you under compulsions so powerful they make the Imperious curse look like a first-year charm. I could do to you what you have done to your relatives, in a matter of seconds and without magic, just pure skill. I can drive you into Madness, casting glamours and illusions so powerful that you would never again reach the waking world. And then fix you and your memory so it never even happened. So tell me Harry Potter, just how afraid are you, and where shall we put you..."_

With that last terrifying comment, Harry pitched foward, his entire consciousness cut loose, and he fell into an endless abyss of his mind. Memories floated around Harry, twisting like rivers in the abyss. Harry touched one, and was sucked in.

_He was in his cupboard, drawing runes on the wall. Harry was looking at the back of his younger self, as he was feverishly working. The present Harry could feel the dusty floor, smell the blood that permeated the cupboard and comforted him as he went to sleep. He could hear the creaks and rattlings of the pipes. Then, past Harry's head turn straight around, 180 degrees, in a manner that should have snapped his neck._

_Past-Harry's mouth opened, but instead of his voice, it was the Sorting Hat's, cruel, and eeriely out of sync with the lip movements._

_"You are a hard worker Mr. Potter. Perhaps Hufflepuff?"_

_Past-Harry smirked and the scene melted away to form another memory, of Harry running from Dudley's gang. But when Past-Harry was out of sight, he used a tripping rune to have the gang hurt themselves. Dudley got up and walked towards Present-Harry._

_"No sense of fair play though. Definitely not Hufflepuff. It took some guts to pull it off. Perhaps Gryffindor?" Said the Sorting Hat, using Dudley as some obscene puppet. _

_The scene melted into something that had never been a memory. Harry's parents stood before him, alive and seemingly real. They beckoned to him, arms outstretched as if to give him a hug._

_"Mum? Dad? I, I've missed you" Harry said, tears brimming in his eyes. He seemed to be at a loss for words._

_"But you aren't real." Harry said finally, turning away from them._

_"Very good Mr. Potter, you saw through the illusion. You are most certainly not a sentimental Gryffindor. A point in your favor I should think. You exhibited paranoia, and a firm grasp of reality. But are you truely composed and paranoid enough for Slytherin?" Asked the Sorting Hat._

_A new memory bubbled forth, the recent scene of Harry playing with Castor and Pollux. They too, turned and spoke in the voice of the Hat._

_"You are far too emotional and unpredictable for Slytherin. Therfore, by your intelligence and thirst for knowledge, you belong in _RAVENCLAW!"

Harry abruptly snapped back into his body. He now had full control over his body, and mind. His memory was fine and in place, and his brain was relatively unaltered, except for one very deep compulsion. He would not be able to speak of the true nature of the Sorting Hat, nor take any action against it. Right as he was about to rip the damned thing off his head, it whispered in his ear gloatingly, "_I wonder what your new boggart is... Come again soon"_ it chuckled maliciously.

Harry, still twitching, very gently placed the Sorting Hat on the stool and walked over to the Ravenclaw table. He just sat back, mind (figurtively) blown by the Sorting Hat.

"Hello there, my name is Michael Corner" one boy said, introducing himself.

"I'm Anthony Goldstein" the other boy said.

"Harry Potter" Harry absent-mindedly said, pondering the rather terrifying implications of the possibility of the Sorting Hat placing mind-control compulsions in every witch and wizard who ever went to Hogwarts. He was certainly not very at ease with such a notion. Screw Voldemort, the Sorting Hat was in a class of its own when it came to terror.

Harry pulled out his note-book and began making notes to himself to find out everything about mind magic. The problem was that he had never actually created runes that had mind-magics directly involved, they were only for other things.

_Note to self, MAKE YOUR BLOODY MIND SAFE!_

Needless to say, Harry was just a bit traumatized.

He shook of the thoughts of world domination via a dictator Hat, and began talking with the others. They introduced themselves, talked about their interests and hobbies, general quirks. Harry told everyone to never touch his journel unless they wanted the protective enchantments to incinerate them.

As they ate, Harry glanced around the hall, and began looking at some of his teachers, trying to guess who teaches what. When he got to the end of the row however, he glanced at a nervous looking teacher in a ugly purple turban, and sneering greasy teacher in black. His scar burned for the first time, and Harry, still sensitive after the Sorting, felt a random mind probe heading his way. Panicked, Harry powered his tattoos and threw unfocused telapathic magic at it while he kept his eyes down at his food. The probe reluctantly dispersed, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

That was close. Too close.

After the Feast was over, and after Harry had to listen to a truely horrifying school song, the prefects led the students to their dorms. They went up to Ravenclaw tower, and the prefect explained how one must answer a riddle to get in.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" Said the eagle knocker.

"Damnit, this is one of those ones that no one can get. We will need Flitwick to open it for us." Said the prefect.

"Lame! Its because he wanted to get to the other side. Everyone knows that" said Michael Corner.

"You think we haven't already tried that? We aren't all purebloods you know." Replied the prefect.

"Ha, morons, you don't even understand the joke." Said Harry. "It's a rather morbid joke as well. Everyone gets annoyed at how simple it seems to be that they don't catch the play on words. When crossing the road, there are two most likely outcomes. You get to the other side, or you get run over. What people never seem to connect with it, is that the 'other side', is another term for death. If he wanted to get to the literal other side of the road, he could. But if he wanted to get to the metaphorical other side, then he is suicidal and just trying to get run over. And ironically, he is a chicken, which are stereotyped to be afraid and paranoid. Thats the joke. Its a play on words so flawless, that no one gets it."

"Concisely explained, young Raven. You may enter" said the knocker. The door swung open to reveal the Ravenclaw Common Room, decked out in blue with bronze highlights.

"That joke will never be the same for me again" one of the kids muttered to one of their classmates.

"Agreed. That is actually really fucked up if you think about it." The classmate muttered back.

Harry simply smiled.

* * *

After the explanation of the rules of the school and more specifically Ravenclaw, and then the obligatory geeking-out over the private library, everyone went to their respective dorms and got settled. Thankful, there was an extra room open, so Harry got to have that one all to himself.

Harry began ripping out pages from his endless journel, and got out one of his fancy new Blood Quills. Harry drew lines and geometric objects, looking on in awe as it took direvtly from his hand, and then healed it afterwards. Harrys pain tolerance was really quite ridiculous at this point, and so he never flinched or made mistakes.

He began drawing the runes for standerd locking and protections on his room, as well as some more complicated ones, one of which made everything seem normal, and the other that would grow stronger with the more magic used against it. It would shatter with one quick massive burst, but should be enough.

Once those were done, he stuck them to his door with a Sticking Rune at the bottom of the pages, and then activated them all. Harry sighed in relief as the familiar protections went up.

Harry then began flipping through his notebook, trying to find every runic sequence regarding the mind that he had ever done. The results were pitiful and in no way were helpful. Harry sighed and got to work.

**AN-I TAKE YOUR CLICHES AND I STOMP ON THEM! WHY THE HELL COULD ANY 11 YEAR OLD POSSIBLY HAVE OCCULMENCY SHIELDS TO KEEP OUT AN AMORTAL ARTIFACT THAT HAS MIND READ HUNDREDS OF CHILDREN OVER A THOUSAND YEARS. PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT! ROUGHLY ESTIMATING 100 CHILDREN MIND READ PER YEAR, OVER 1000 YEARS, MEANS OVER 100,000 MINDS BROKEN INTO BY THE HAT! WHY DOES THE WIZARDING WORLD FIND THIS ACCEPTABLE! Seriously though, that cliche is stupid. Like really stupid. "Theres nothing hidden in your head, the Sorting Hat can't see". I mean come on, that Hat warns everyone. Jeez. Anyway, thatnks for the reviews and such, I hope I sufficiently killed the cliches of Slythendor. Though being in the same house as Quirrel, Lockhart, Tralawny and Moaning Myrtle may not be so illustrius. I hope i put an unexpected twist on the Hat. Annoyingly, due to wifi f***ing up, i had to retype parts of it 3 times. I was not amused. Shoutout to Hammer n Nail and Mad Random Writor. And yes I know that the Hat monologued, but damnit, its evil, and very possibly can not be destroyed so it will monologue if it wants to. Anyway, please review it makes me happy. **

**-Lucifer**


	8. Chapter 8

_It is said that those people who haven't chosen good or evil do more damage than those who have..._

**Chapter 8-Settling In**

Harry woke up the next day, after nightmares of sneering Hats, and began to get ready for classes. He grabbed all his books and put them in his bookbag, and then grabbed his journel and a Blood Quill, as well as some regular quills. He stuffed his wand in his pocket, then twisted his ring around his finger.

Harry hurried down the stairs of the dormitories and into the Ravenclaw common room. There, books and papers could be seen strewn all over the place. Ink wells and quills were everywhere. Harry went over to the Ravenclaw private library, and began searching through the book titles. He selected a book on Runes, and the Elder Futhark, and shoved it in his bag.

After he did that, he strolled down the stairs to get to breakfast. He walked through the halls, got lost a couple times, and finally made it. When Harry entered the Great Hall, he observed that Ravenclaw table looked particularly exhausted. Plopping down next to Anthony, he asked, "Hey, why do you all look so tired?"

"Ravenclaw tradition. The night before classes start everyone goes and studies up to the first five days, so we can be ahead and give ourselves a buffer. And then we have to wake up earlier than everyone for the first week until we know our way around the castle." Said an obviously tired Anthony.

Glancing around, Harry noted that most of the Ravens had bags under their eyes.

"Are you telling me that you lot have never considered the negative effects of sleep deprivation?" Asked Harry skeptically.

"It's not as important as knowing the material." Anthony snapped back, obviously crabby.

"Whatever. I am going to wrap myself a meal to go, and then ask a teacher about something." Harry said.

True to his word, he grabbed some toast and made a sandwich with some eggs that were lying around, as well as some sausage. He wrapped it up and then walked out of the Great Hall, searching for the Runes classroom. He eventually found it a couple halls away from the Transfiguration Department.

He entered the classroom, and saw a slightly chubby, gray-haired lady working on lesson plans.

"Professor Babbling?" Harry asked.

The lady looked up. "Yes dear? Do you need directions to your next class?"

"No Professor, I was wondering if you could help me with something. I have been doing self-study Runes for a while now, but I have not found any runic sequences that have to do with the mind, and mental defense and enhancement. Also, can you explain the materials runes are made out of and what makes them different?" asked Harry.

"Ravenclaw, aren't you. Well, the runic mind sequences involves these runes here." Babbling began drawing on a spare bit of parchment. "The problem is that runes, while very flexible in some areas, can be rather rigid compared to the mind arts. There are no runes nor language that can describe the subtle nuances and shades of feeling that a Legilimens or Occlumens must know in order to have control of the mind. I am not the best at explaining such things, you will need to speak with Professor Snape about that, but as best as I can understand it, the mind arts are fluid, ever-changing. A mental arms race in which one side attempts to outwit the other by foiling attacks and defenses with moves specifically designed to counter the other." Said the Professor.

"So then runes wouldn't work because..."

"By comparison, using runes for such a purpose would by like building a brick wall and expecting it to hold up against floods, tornados, firestorms, battering rams. And in the mind, defenses do not work the same way as the real world. If you have a wall, the attacker will climb over it. There is far too much versatility involved in such a thing." finished Babbling. "In the short term, these runic sequences would be effective for light mental scans, but it is best to just learn Occlumency instead of taking the easy way out. As for runic materials, I teach that in my class, and I will need to have something to attract such an obviously gifted student to my class.

Harry thanked her and made his way to his first class, still thinking about how he would use runes to protect his mind.

* * *

Harry entered the Transfiguration Classroom with a fair bit of time before he was late. He went over to an empty desk and scanned the classroom. Most of the Ravens were already there, but there were some missing. Up on Professor McGonagall's desk, there was a tabby cat, surveying the classroom. Harry surmised that it was a pet of McGonagall's.

As the last students trickled in, the cat leaped forward off the desk, transforming into Professor McGonagall.

"Welcome to Transfiguration." She said. "This is among the most complex and dangerous classes that you will be taking here. If I catch you fooling around in here, you will be banned from this class. You have been warned."

She then promptly turned her desk into a pig and back.

She handed them all a set of matchsticks to turn into needles. Harry drew his wand, excited. He said the incantation and...nothing happened. He tried again and nothing happened.

"Remember, you must clear you head and concentrate fully on the transformation." Said McGonagall.

Harry kept trying, but the very best he could do by the time that class was over, was to make the match a little bit pointy.

At the end, Harry went over to the teacher and asked, "Professor, why wasn't I able to do much. In terms of the transfiguration I mean."

"This is a difficult class, and I would not expect anyone to get it on the first try. The only reason someone might be bad at this class from the start is if they had been consciously controlling accidental magic from a very young age." Replied the teacher.

"Really? Why would that be?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too interested.

McGonagall fixed a sharp eye on Harry. "Well, if a person had, hypothetically of course, been using only say charms magic from the beginning, they would grow to rely on charms, and be a natural at such magic. However, the downside is a lack of belief and understanding in the other branches of magic. And thus would someone be 'bad' at magic the very first time they tried it."

"So, what would you recommend in such a situation." He asked guiltily.

"Mr. Potter, do not take me for a fool. Did you think that I did not notice such an elaborate glamour charm cast on your bag? Using a spell that, while easy, is only taught to third-years? Ten points to Ravenclaw for such a well cast charm by the way. However, the only remedy, is practice. Every day, I want you to try to transfigure this matchstick into a needle. Once you get it, come back to me for something new. Now, was there anything else?" she asked.

"Well, yes actually. Could you transfigure me a permanent teloscope?" He asked.

"Mr. Potter, I was with you when we bought your school supplies. Are you telling me that you have lost it already?" McGonagall asked with a steely glare.

"No, no I just wanted to experiement on it, since I heard from the other Claws that Flitwick teaches only wand motions, incantations, and Hovering Charms for the first few months." said Harry nervously.

"Hmm. Very well. You may experiement, but only safely and in no way near students. If you wish to fiddle with it in my colleague's class, you will have to show him your proficiency with Charms, but no doubt he will grant your request. Though in return he may have you assist with his teaching. Now off with you. I will not be blamed if you are late for your next class." She said.

She transfigured a quill into a small pocket sized bronze telescope, and gave it to him before sending Harry to his next class.

* * *

Harry went to his Charms class next. He sat and suffered through the class which was focusing on wand motions. After class, Harry went up to Flitwick to ask him about playing with his telescope in class.

"Umm, Professor? I was wondering if during class, I could work and play with my telescope in class. As Professor McGonagall might tell you, before Hogwarts, most of my accidental magic was Charms based and I managed to control a fair bit of it, wandlessly and sometimes wordlessly. As I am already proficient in many of the concepts taught this first year, I was wondering if I could self-study and do Charms experiements to try and enchant my telescope during class." Harry said.

"Well Mr. Potter, that is indeed impressive if it is true." Flitwick began in his squeaky voice. "However, I will need a demonstration first of your abilities, and then if you can impress me, I will need to see improvement on your telescope every month. For the sake of fairness, you can only work on it in class, so that you do not get an older student to do it for you. I understand that you may wish to have your own to make improvements on, and do on your own time however, if you perform charms and enchantments successfully on the classroom one, then I will perform those same charms on your personal one if you should ask. Now, show me what kind of magic you can do."

Harry shrugged and took out one of his regular quills. He drew his wand, and said "_Wingardium Leviosa". _The feather obediently rose to the challenge.

Flitwick, looking excited, gestured for Harry to do more. Harry performed it wordlessly, then wandlessly, and then both. Harry then cast a _Riddikulus _charm after Flitwick noticed his bag. Harry turned Flitwick's classroom into a mountainous volcano scene. At the end, Flitwick was nearly hopping at the detail, and Harry was exhuasted at all the details, such as the tenperature, thinness of the air, even density of the 'rocks'.

Flitwick was suitably impressed, and cast a _Gemineo _charm on the telescope, and then charmed the classroom version red. He then sent Harry on to his next class with a pass.

* * *

Harry was reasonably certain that the Potions teacher hated him.

"Potter! What do you get from an infusion of asphodel and wormwood!" Yelled Snape.

Yep, reasonably certain.

"Professor Snape. I was under the impression that the first few days in each class were to be safety procedures so that we do not injure our classmates. If you had asked me about such procedures, I would be able to answer, as it is the next part in our curriculum. It is my belief that only a budding Potions Master would be able to understand enough potions theory to be able to read to the 3rd year level and thus be familiar with this potion. Whilst I appreciate the sentiment is this is indeed the case, I must inform you that I am simply an average student, and should be treated as such. For us to behave otherwise could form a bad working relationship." Said Harry, slowly and deliberately.

Harry was no fool. He was perfectly aware that the level of hatred that Snape seemed to have for him would likely never go away. He did however understand that Snape was a Slytherin, and had to be a role model for his House. Now that Harry seemed to be acting perfectly reasonable, Snape couldn't risk escalating the cconflict or else he would lose face and expose weakness, especially to his House.

Snape knew it. Harry knew it. Snape also knew that Harry knew it and vice versa.

_Well played Potter. Though it pains me to admit it, you are a worthy opponent._

"Well Mr. Potter, since you do not know, we will make this a learning experience shall we? I want a 10 inch essay answering the question by Monday" said Snape.

He couldn't completely submit could he?

"Now class, the proper way to prepare the..." Snape continued on.

Harry took copius notes, and while Snape wasn't speaking, he flipped through his potions book, speculating on the effects of using potions in Harry's Runes.

* * *

Runically speaking, Herbology was another fun class. It fascinated Harry to learn about all the different plants and their uses, and it was relatively easy to do.

Harry jotted down notes in his runic journel in his made-up language on the possibilities of using some of the parts of the more dangerous plants in his magic. Harry was particularly fascinated by Whomping Willows and Mandrakes. He thought about using the sap in his runes, or burning the plants to make magical ash again. Harry even considered sucking out the magic from some of the plants to see if he could purify it.

One day after class, Harry went to Sprout to ask her about it.

"Professor Sprout?" He asked.

"Yes Harry?" The rather dumpy looking witch responded.

"I was wondering if I could have an old Mandrake that no one is using for potions ingredients. I have been collecting souvenirs to remind my of my years at Hogwarts, but I don't have anything for Herbology, you know? It's just a silly sort of ssntimental thing but..."

"Oh of course Harry! Thats so nice. There's this one old mandrake that somehow avoided being made into Potions parts last year, and by the time we found him, his scream was too powerful for earmuffs and silencing charms. So we had to put him down and Mandrakes are only good fresh, so I've just been waiting to get rid of him. Here we go." Said Sprout.

As she had been talking, she was bustling around next the compost bin, and grabbed a Mandrake for Harry to have. It was especially gnarly and even in death, it looked snile and bad-tempered, and tough as roots. Harry thanked Sprout profusely and made off with his prize.

* * *

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was just horrible.

Quirrel mumbled, stuttered and generally was unintelligible. The whole room smelled of garlic, and a faint hint of something rotten. Quirrel seemed especially nervous around Harry, a fact that infuriated Harry to no end, given that Harry was looking forward to the class and what it had to teach.

However, in the end, Harry just read his DADA texts to learn about the various forms of curses, hexes, and jinxes. Whilst Harry's natural talents were in Runes, most of the Runes he did were in the form of the Charms branch of magic, which was a rather large blanket for most of all magic. And Harry had done a lot of his runes in spell form too. While Transfiguration, Rituals, Runes, Alchemy, and Potions to name a few were not included under the Charms blanket, Charms, Hexes, Curses, Jinxes, Cantrips, Glamours, Illusions, and Enchanting were all little sub-branches of Charms, thus making Harry particularly adept at most of the Charms branches.

The only thing that bothered him about the class was an off and on burning centered in his scar...

* * *

History of Magic was terrible. It was boring, uninformative, and the only redeeming quality was that Harry could use minor Soul Magic to flick things at the teacher and have them actually hit.

Harry was very much tempted to perform an exorcism and then blame Peeves. He did know a rather effective one from his Necromancy Book...

* * *

All and all however, it had been a pretty good week...

**AN-Hello everyone. I hope you liked this chapter. In this, I attempted to use other branches of magic to de-marysue Harry. As you can see, his specialties are begining to becone clear. Heaven forbid we have something ridiculous like Goblins having magical rituals to tell you what you are good at. So Harry is awesome at Charms and most of the blanket branches. He is rubbish at transfiguration, kinda rubbish in potions, and Herbology is an easy O anyway. History class sucks. He is also good at runes, and has the potential to be good at Dark magic. Shoutout to JustMe and Cherrie-San for awesome reviews. Minor shoutout to AutumnGold for being a very loyal reader and making the awesome thhoughtfull reviews each chapter. We authors notice these things. So next chapter will be Halloween, featuring Male!Ron reintroduced Hermione, and Trollface. Literally. Also magical experimentation with magic. Muahahaha.**

**-Lucifer**


	9. Chapter 9

_God exists because mathematics is consistent, and the Devil exists since we cannot prove it._

_Andre Weil_

**Chapter 9-Halloween**

* * *

Harry had been making a lot progress on his experiments. He was currently running several of them at the moment. One of which was the ongoing telescope project, on which some of the charms on it were turning out to be rather difficult. Currently, his personal one had several settings, some of which were only by virtue of Dark Magic.

One setting included seeing through walls and other objects. Another saw auras and residual magic. Some of the darker enchantments included the ability to see souls and information. That last one was hugely complex, and tired out Harry for a week. He had needed to enlarge a rock to several times its size, carve miniature runes on the boulder with a heated stylus that would melt the rock, sprinkle soul infused ashes in it, this time from regular wood, and then activate them all and shrink it to the size of a pebble. And the runework alone was nearly a month to do.

By information, the telescope was able to do a very crude form of runic legilimency. It would read important surface thoughts, such as 'Ouch' or 'Damn' or 'Binns sucks'. Nothing elaborate however. While it couldn't access memories and true thoughts like a Legilimencer, it could access the 'hard' knowledge as Harry dubbed it. Memorized facts and trivia. He could access the incantation for the Patronus Charm for instance, but he would not know how to cast it, or the wand movements, as they are more associated with muscle memory and such. He tested it on the Granger girl, naturally.  
Harry was also working on using runes that have to do with the mind. While he had been unsuccessful in protecting his mind with runes, he had been able to do some things with them, such as his telescope.

In searching for an alternative, Harry began learning Occlumency. It was very slow-going at first as Harry was very much used to Charms and Runes, thank you very much, but he had been making progress. Unlike some Occlumens, he didn't make his mindscape some place of comfort like his cupboard, though with the runes on it, it probably would have made a good location anyway.

Harry's mind focused on trickery, deception, and misdirection. The outer layer of his mind was covered in a deep fog, which was actually a representation of a Confundus charm. Harry had gotten his shields in order, and then when he was sure he could contain the fog in a shell, Harry cast the charm on himself. Anyone wandering in the fog would start becoming confused while lost, a terrible combination. Right behind the fog, was a shield of pain.

Harry, in his near obsessive attempts to protect his mind, had actually got up the courage to cast the Cruciatus Curse upon himself. Harry had writhed and thrashed through the near unbearable pain, but he possessed the strength of will to commit it to a memory. If anyone should stumble out of the fog, they would run right into one of the Unforgivable Curses.

However, Harry knew that a determined person would be able to withstand it and enter his mind. So the interior of his mind, instead of organized as the books recommend, was more reminiscent of insanity. Harry's interior mind was a maze, that would move based on the intent of the person invading Harry's mind. Illusions, tricks and traps would greet people and lead them astray, and the more determined they were to get to a memory, the more the maze would shift to lead them away from it.

The final thing that clinched the defense was Harry's use of dimensions. This was not the average maze. You did not travel in two dimensions, you traveled all of them. Not simply left and right, but also up and down. Time and space were twisted back on itself, so that one might walk down one path and come back where they started. Harry also used Expansion Charms, Extension Charms, and had them specially charmed so that when entered, a new maze would be created, but without memories. The maze would then seal in on them, trapping them in an infinite loop.

This had been very hard to accomplish, but no one had ever said that you can't use runes in the mindscape. Harry's magic and soul holding runes held the fog and pain shield. Harry was able to make the expanded spaces with runes, and then even use runes to conjure stones with runes on them. That would never work in real life, but this was the mind, and it was infinite.

All of this was for the sole focus of trying to keep out the Sorting Hat. That was the standard that Harry was holding himself to. The problem was that the nature of the Sorting Hat made it so difficult to defend against. It was a hat. It could not feel pain. Mental spells like the Confundus could not work on it. It did not have any emotions to manipulate, and had only a very rudimentary sense of preservation. Illusions and glamours couldn't fool it, and just a plain shield would shatter under the Hat's immense skills and the power provided by Hogwarts, which itself stood on an intersection of ley lines. That only left trickery and trying to outwit it.

All the same, while Harry's ideas on how to shield the mind were innovative and clever, he didn't use actual mental techniques to do it. Which made him absolute rubbish at Legilimency. He was holding off on that until his mind was completely safe anyway.

Harry's final experiment, was with the Mandrake. Harry had deduced from his books and studies, that some creatures like Mandrakes, Banshees and Sirens, used sound based magic. To shield against it, you must shield against sound instead of magic. The magic could also affect anyone who heard it.

Harry had taken several sticks from the Forbidden Forest. He had taken a special stylus, and carved runes into the wood, of sound and charging. Then, Harry took the two sticks, and shaped and polished them until they were smooth to the touch. After that, Harry had drenched the Mandrake in Harry's blood, and then burned it. When he had just ashes, he took some insect and pest souls and magic, and infused it in the ashes.  
The reason soul magic is so powerful, was because disassembling a soul had immense power. Comparable to splitting an atom and creating a nuclear explosion. That's the reason that Demons and Dementors are so powerful. Demons use the souls to boost their magic and grant wishes, and Dementors suck souls to be immortal and invulnerable. Thus, even insect souls grant great power to works of magic.

Harry then rubbed the ashes into the Runes and sealed them with fire. He imbued a particular rune with an ability to hold spells. Harry then imbued it with a stinging hex, for testing of course.

The next day, at breakfast, he powered it up, and smacked them together. A large crack blasted through the Great Hall, somehow amplified in sound. All the students jumped up, yelling about getting cursed. Some of the confused Muggleborns were screaming about bees. Harry hid the small smirk that stole across his face, and slipped the rods back into his bag. It was a success.

By the time Halloween rolled around, Harry had been doing well at Hogwarts. His Charms and DADA was amazing, he was scraping a passing grade in Transfiguration, and he was failing History and Potions. He didn't care about that though. Harry headed down to the Feast, somehow avoiding his classmates in the process.

It was amazing. Surrounded by sweet and savory dishes, Harry ate to his heart's content. Jack O' Lanterns floated in the air, and the Great Hall was decorated in the Halloween Spirit. Blacks and Oranges dominated the color scheme, and the House Ghosts floated around talking with the students.

Harry had been trying to ignore his classmates pestering him, when all of a sudden, Professor Quirrell ran in screaming, his god-awful purple turban askew.

"TROLL! TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!" He screamed. He then fainted, curiously falling forward on his face instead of backwards, like would be expected.

While everyone was screaming and panicking, Harry's paranoia senses were screaming at him like an evil little angel on his shoulder, yelling in his ears about how there is no such thing as coincidences.

Dumbledore slowly stood up, and several loud bangs and explosions issued from his wand.

"SILENCE! Students, will go to the dormitories. Calmly. And teachers, will go out and search for the beast." He said, somehow managing to radiate an aura of calm competence.

Harry began to move with the crowd to the dormitories, when he was pulled aside by his diminutive Head of House.

"Mr. Potter! I know you have been working on that telescope of yours. Could it be of use in this situation?" Said the squeaky voice of Professor Flitwick.

Unable to refuse without looking suspicious, Harry dug in his bag, and retrieved it. He powered it on and put it up to his eye.  
_"Point Me Troll"_ Harry whispered.

The telescope twisted in Harry's grasp to point towards the walls of the Great Hall.  
_"Anima. Oculus."_

The telescope adjusted itself and focused, now looking through the walls to find bright wisps of Soul.

A large, sentient looking being was wandering the corridors near the girls bathrooms. There was a human soul in the bathrooms, and another soul running to it. Harry turned off the Soul Vision, and nearly groaned. Looks like he would have to play hero to keep suspicion off him.

"Professor, get the others, it's at the girls bathroom with two students. I will hold it off." Yelled Harry. He ran off, leaving the sputtering Professor running after him on his stubby little legs.

Harry got to the bathroom just as one Ronald Weasley locked the bathroom door. Harry grabbed his latest weapon.

"Moron. _Concussus Sonorus!"_ yelled Harry, forcing his magic through his Rods, purposefully overpowering them as foci. The spell he used was one of the more powerful spells of the rather obscure branch of magic called the Pressure Charms. This particular one, was perfect to use against the Troll. It was a magical depth charge. No direct magic, only physical force and power, making it effective against the magic-resistant creature.  
Harry concentrated on the door, channeling his intent into the Rods. Then he slammed them together, pointing them at the door. A focused shockwave blasted out of the rods, and blew the door to splinters. The metal hinges and lock flew out, the shape and form twisted and broken by the impact.

Inside the bathroom, the troll was standing over Hermione Granger, who was unconscious with a nasty cut in her head. A steely look entered Harry's eyes, and he collided the Rods together again. The sonic blast flung the troll into the wall, as well as shattering all of the porcelain sinks in a row, exploding into shards. Harry stepped closer to the troll right as it got up, staggering drunkenly from the blow. He banged the Rods together again, but harder. This blast picked up the troll, and sent it flipping through the air again. This time the stone bricks that made up the castle shivered, and hairline fractures jagged through them like lightning. Dust fell from the ceiling from the blast. Harry went to the troll, stepping over the gravel and rubble that it was lying in. He bashed them together one last time, and the trolls head snapped back, knocked out. It was bleeding from the eyes, and ears, and some of its teeth had fallen out. It had obviously sustained a major concussion, if it wasn't brain-dead anyway. 

Walking out, Harry saw a passed out Ron, sporting a nose bleed. The Rods had obviously done some collateral damage, even if Weasley had not taken the brunt of the blasts. Hearing footsteps, Harry shrunk the Rods and shoved them in his bag. He did not need the teachers knowing about his true specialties. Harry whipped out his wand and performed a Levitation Charm on a the troll's club and laid it near the trolls head. The last thing he was able to do before the teachers got there was fill a vial full of the troll's blood, for more experimentation, of course.

With that, the teachers ran in, wands drawn, only to find a bloodied looking Harry Potter, and two unconscious students. As well as a knocked out troll of course.

"Ah, professors. It is good to see you." Said Harry, still shaky from the adrenaline.

"What happened here." Said the level-headed and stern McGonagall.

"Interesting story that is. Well, I saw with my telescope that the troll was about to happen upon a helpless student, and a separate student was about to happen on a not-so-helpless troll. I informed Flitwick, assuming that he had a way to communicate with the rest of you, but I knew that you were likely in the dungeons, and though Professor Flitwick is an amazing teacher, I did not know if he could get here to help in time. Thus, I went to save the students." Said Harry, rather coolly all things considered.

"We can understand that. How did you beat the troll is what we wanted to know." Said a rather cross Professor Flitwick.

"Well it is thanks to your instruction Professor. Earlier today, I was experimenting with the way different charms work together, and I had managed to create a rather interesting combination that would vanish all the air in a couple inch radius, and then perform a nonmoving imploding charm in the epicenter of it. Given that it had a tendency to blow itself apart, I only used it with apples as my test subjects, for safety. When the Troll was announced, I realized that I could use it as a distraction and possibly trap the troll by caving in the wall. When I confronted the troll, I cast one in its mouth, and the blast gave it a concussion. Then I levitated the club, and hit the troll in the face." Harry lied smoothly.

Though, the idea of imploding charms in a vacuum was one he would need to revisit...

"Well, that is surely impressive. Twenty points to Ravenclaw. Now you should visit the Hospital Wing to check for injuries. Off with you." Said McGonagall, giving Harry a rare warm smile.

Harry shrugged and walked off, a little bit curious at Snape's absence...

* * *

**AN- Ok, so this chapter sucks. In my defense, I am NOT using the book as far as all the previous chapters are concerned, this is all from memory. Also, I get that not many people will be fans of the experimentation, but it's just too damn cool to imagine, and fun to write. The occlumency is how Harry is planning it out and has the foundation for it built already. This is a bit of a timeskip, and also how I would build my Occlumency. Possibly more Pressure Magic in the future. Give me notes on what kind of magic you all would like to see next. Incidentally, if you haven't noticed, I cannot write detail or dialogue, both stemming from my status as an oblivious introvert. That said, shoutout to ChasetheDreamer and ObsessedwithHPFanFic for fabulous reviews. Also another mini-shoutout to Kairan1979 for being a great guy and following and keeping up to date with my chapters. You and AutumnGold both are being great and reviewing many chapters on this awesome concept sucky story piece of writing. I hope I didn't screw up anything too hard... Anyway, review, and love me.**

**-Lucifer**


	10. Chapter 10

_Fear is the dark room where the devil develops his negatives..._

_-Gary Busey_

**Chapter 10-The Mirror**

Harry had been sneaky. Very sneaky. And it paid off.

Late one Friday night, Harry grabbed his journel, and flipped to his chapter on hiding, concealment, and general invisibility. Harry stroked the bloody pages, and watched them as the runes flickered to life, with a rippling glowing red.

Wards began rising around Harry, wards of iron thickness and power, erecting themselves in shimmering waves around Harry's face.

Harry became silent, his breathing unheard, and his footsteps silent. He began fading into invisibility, and the Notice-Me-Not wards climbed over Harry, and wrapped him in their protective warmth. Harry took off out of Ravenclaw Tower, passing through the blue and bronze common room.

Harry had a mission. He wanted to get to the Restricted Section, in the library. He did not need books on runes, or black magic, as he still had his books from Mr. Borgin.

Completely undetectable, Harry ran through the great stone halls, his footsteps silent. He nearly ran into Filch and his evil cat, but they couldn't detect him, and he got away.

Harry finally got to the library, and began walking toward the Restricted Section. Harry ducked under the rope separating it, and entered. Here the rows of labyrinthine books seemed more crooked, and more shadows gathered in the corners than in the rest of the room. Harry looked through the books, and searched the titles of the tomes. Harry finally stopped on one thin, red one. Harry pulled it out, and read the title. In black cursive lettering, it said _"M.A.D. Spells"_. Harry knew exactly what this meant. He stowed the book in his bag, and left for his dorm. Mission Success.

* * *

The next day, Harry was in the library again, studying for Transfiguration, just hoping to have the time to crack open his new book.

Harry saw a flash of movement through the bookshelves, and heard a snippet of conversation.

"... Honestly Ron, Snape is a teacher...would never to...Sorcerers Stone..." Murmered a muffled voice.

It sounded a bit like that Hermione Girl, Harry mused.

"...Why else...troll to distract...third floor corridor..." Replied another voice.

That was definitely Ronald Weasley.

Harry had heard all that he needed to. He knew of the Sorcerer's Stone as he had researched powerful substances for his runes. Seriously, how could he not know of a magical immortality stone that makes gold. That stuff is just cool. And he wanted it. Now he knew where it was. He had a new game to play.

* * *

Harry wandered far out to the Forbidden Forest that night, under his concealments, for the purpose of opening the book. A rustling could be heard in the bushes, and the trees loomed ominously over him.

All of a sudden, a massive Acromantula leaped out of the bushes. It was hairy and ugly, its nightmarish eight legs picked their way through the roots. Harry stood very still, but as he shifted his weight, the spider picked up the vibrations. It turned in his direction and charged.

Swearing, Harry ripped out a piece of from his journel. He crushed it and balled it in his hand, while powering up the runes. He threw it at the spider and flared his runes to levitate it into the creature's face. The ball exploded into a giant bubbling mass of black goo, and it began dissolving the spiders face. It started screeching and squealing frantically, but before it could run away it fell dead. Harry shrugged and collected some blood before cracking open his book.

He flipped to the introduction.

_"There are always friends and enemies. Sometimes, there are no options or spells that can stand up to ones enemies, and no Dark Magic or Light Magic can save oneself. In this manuscript, I take a cue from our Muggle neighbors, and teach you the spells that we have created, to engage in this Cold War idea, of Mutually Assured Destruction. Dark Magic and Light Magic have their uses, but this text contains the best of both, the deadliest, most destructive of spells. When a wizard of Lord-Level power is pitted against the average wizard, only these bits of magic will save him. This book has been declared the most Evile of books, an illegal aid to all Dark Wizards, but in truth, this is the salvation to the desperate._

_-Written by the Immortal Dark Ladies Medea and Circe"_

Harry's blood ran cold, and he began trembling at what he held. The words of the Sorting Hat echoed in his ears, taunting him, mocking him.

_ "Tell me, where have the immortals gone. Those wizards that had the power and knowledge to commit themselves to life. Where is Circe, where is Medea? " _the Hat had said.

The Cold War. M.A.D. Circe and Medea were still alive.

Harry, stood there frozen in the Forest, as his inner self ran around his mind, screaming and flailing his arms. After a few moments of this, Harry got ahold of himself. He began to flip through the book. Names leaped out at him. Fiendfyre, Cryo Vida, and Absolute Zero. Demon Summoning. Necromantic Dementor Rituals. The Burning Words and their variations. Holy Oblivion. Energia Potentia. The Forbidden Gravity Branch. This was a book full of the Wizarding Worlds answer to Nuclear Weapons.

Harry took a breath, and prepared to cast one of the least destructive(though most lethal). Absolute Zero.

_"Interminatis Frigus, et Tenebras, et Nehilitatas" _Harry chanted, the foreign words echoing through his skull, reverberating into an ominous thunder.

For a second, nothing happened. Then, a wisp of inky black smoke emitted from Harry's wand. A veritable cloud of the darkness rolled out of the wand. Harry could not see through it, as it was the total absence of light. It was, coldness, it was darkness, it was entropy, it was void.

With a horrified gasp, Harry realized what he had summoned. His Muggle science class had done a overview of it. It was Absolute Zero. That elusive number, that determined the coldest temperature in the planet. So cold in fact, that energy itself stops. Light ceases to move, atoms cease to vibrate, electricity will not work. It was that purely theoretical temperature that Harry had summoned. Harry was suddenly very glad that he had read the instructions and shielded the haze from temperature escaping it.

Harry twirled his wand, and like some slow, seeping monster, it covered the nearest tree. When directed away from it, the tree looked the same, but gave of smoke, of chilled air and frost began growing on the tree. Without letting go of the wand, Harry kicked a rock at it. The entire tree shattered into frozen splinters, the brittleness of the tree making it as fragile as glass.

With sinking feeling, Harry realized that even magic could not go through the Cold Magic, as it stops all energy. Harry would need to shield it and wait for it to dissipate.

After an hour or so, Harry deemed it safe to drop the shields and leave the Forest. Concealing himself again, Harry stole back into the castle, and went back to Ravenclaw Tower and went back to sleep.

* * *

Harry decided to go and explore late one night. Then, he found something. Something dangerous.

Harry was standing in front of a Mirror. It was elaborate, ornate and there were strange letters inscribed in the top.

"I know what you are", said a wary Harry. "You are...Kin, to the Sorting Hat. You are an Object of Power."

The Mirror stood there silently. Harry was tempted to leave and be safe, but his thrice-damned curiosity would not let him.

"What are you called" Harry asked softly, his wand in hand, circling around the Mirror, but never looking in.

A slight tugging on Harry's consciousness drew his attention. It would come at random, gently prodding to get his attention. All of a sudden, a huge spike of pain came from the direction of the Mirror. Harry spun towards it to defend himself, only realizing at the last moment that he had been tricked, that it was a trap.

The Mirror's surface rippled, and Harry could see his parents and family. Harry could not look away. He was mesmerized. It was only when Harry could feel his mind expand, signaling entry into the mind maze infinity loop, that he realized that he could hear subtle whisperings in his mind, tendrils of power reaching out to pluck at Harry's emotions.

Harry ripped away the presence in his mind, and yelled _"OBSCURO"_.

A thick black mist issued from his wand, and covered the surface of the Mirror like a veil.

Struggling to control himself, Harry said "What are you called?"

A high playful thought, sounding like a girl's voice emanated from the artifact.

_They call me Erised..._

The high, girly, laughing voice belied the rolling waves of anger and hatred that Harry could feel coming off the Mirror.

_Why will you not look at me? Do you not wish to see your loved ones?_

As the Mirror spoke, Harry could feel it weaving and laying compulsions and weaving magic into its words. Harry could almost feel the hunger...

"I will not be tempted." Harry said calmly, fingering his wand.

The Mirror went still and silent. The rage and hatred that Harry felt earlier bubbled into frustration and wrath. The Mirror began vibrating ominously, a low hum shaking the room.

_YOU ARE MINE! YOU HAVE LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR AND NOW I WILL HAVE YOU FOREVER!_

A blast of power sucked in Harry's mind, tumbling through illusions and emotions. The Mirror bombarded him with emotions and feelings, and like a greedy vampire, began feeding off his, all while flashing pictures of alternate love and despair. Harry strengthened his shields, and directed a stream of his emotions through the maze, into an infinity loop. A mental tendril greedily followed it. Harry drew back the emotion and locked the loop, trapping the tendril.

The Mirror, while as powerful as the Sorting Hat, was younger and did not have access to the amounts of practice that it had. Thus Harry stood a chance.

_ANGER, SADNESS, DESPAIR, HATE._ Harry was being drowned in a flood of foreign emotions, and the Mirror was dragging up memories and scenes from the past.

Vernon punching him, his parents dying, being bullied in school, taking revenge on his bullies.

_I WILL HAVE YOU FOR MY OWN, SANE OR NOT! _

It screeched at him, no longer sounding like a girl, but more like a metallic tearing, a razor squealing.

They wrestled back and forth, battling for dominace of the emotional streams, until finally, Harry wrested control back from it for a moment, and formed a mental lance and dove into the sentience of the Mirror. It was not like a human mind. Its thinking patterns were not circular nor linear, but were instead twisted and alien. Memories flew past Harry's mind as he witnessed the eventual insanity of all who dared stare into the Mirror, without the knowledge of it's true nature.

Finally, while the Artifact was stunned, Harry withdrew and clamped his shields down around his mind, going back to his body. He closed his eyes for safety, and stumbled out.

In the corner, there was a Disillusioned old man who had seen this exchange. But instead of plotting, or musing about the Mirror, like some might believe, he was grinning. Savagely, terrifyingly grinning. As if all his plans had just worked. This made for a terrifying sight. Especially, as the Headmaster's eyes were a jet-black, and there was a Hat smiling the same smile perched on Dumbledore's head...

* * *

**AN-Yes the appropriate response to making a Harry Sue is including stupidly powerful sentient artifacts of evil, as well as more Lord-Level wizards and witches. Just roll with it. So now with this book, I have an excuse to give harry M.A.D. skills and blow up everything. Anyway shoutout to RebleiousOne and Marina-Elise. They are awesome. For people who love super spells, more will come. Yeah. Next chapter will be christmas and stone stealing. Yeah. So making anything not human or mortal, super powerful and evil. Cause its fun. Also more blood runes and rituals next chapter. Better written chapter this time in my opinion, but low on content. Hope yall like my chapter per day policy. By the way, no, i dont have the story already written, so im just making this up off the top of my head every day. Hope you like it. Review harder.**

**-Lucifer**


	11. Chapter 11

_It is not a God, just and good, but a devil, under the name of God, that the Bible describes._

_Thomas Paine_

**Chapter 11-Bullying Slytherins**

Harry was trying to study in the library. He was not happy that day. Potions has been terrible that day, as Snape had been trying to escalate the fight, and make Harry angry enough to lose his composure.

To recoup from it, Harry was busy reading an interesting book. It was called "Ridiculous Magical Mistakes", and it outlined some of the more interesting effects of experimentation with spells. Some actually seemed quite useful. If only to play with in the future. The chapter he was on was magical transportation, and an eccentric wizard called Uric the Oddball featured quite prominantly in it.

"Hello Harry, how are you doing?" Said someone standing behind him.

Harry wanted to rage in frustration. He was trying to read damnit, and he didn't need this poncy, blond-haired git distracting him.

"You wouldn't believe this, but someone told Crabbe that the Muggle Queen has authority over the magical world. Now he is plotting to travel to this 'Buckingham Palace' and kill her. Now I was saying we should put her under Imperious..." Said one Draco Malfoy. He kept droning on and monologuing about blood-superiority, still under the impression that he was friends with Harry.

Harry tried to ignore him. He tried to read. He tried to suppress his temper. But finally Harry snapped.

Cutting Malfoy off, he said, _"Imperio"._

Harry was about to send Malfoy away and continue reading, when a devious, evil, downright cruel idea presented itself to him. Harry flipped back a couple pages to make sure his idea was feasible. Harry's grin was vicious and terrifying when he realized that it was possible. Far away, the Welcome Witch at St. Mungos felt a cold shiver run up her spine.

* * *

Draco Malfoy walked into the Slytherin Common Room, eyes glazed from the Imperious. He walked over to the corner where his friends were sitting, playing exploding snap. He began to play as well, and listened to the conversation for a while.

At the critical point of transportation, Draco interjected his own comment.

"You know, Portkeys made on the inside of the castle can get out. We can make a portkey and go off the royal bint, then catch the Knight Bus back to Hogwarts. Its easy. The incantation is _Portus Accelerans"_

Never an intellectual giant, Crabbe pointed his wand at an Exploding Snap card. He began to say the incantation, when an Imperioused Snape burst into the common room, running. The professor jumped and slide onto the table, flying towards Draco.

"_Portus Accelerans"_ Crabbe finished dumbly. But instead of hitting the card, Crabbe hit Professor Snape, who was flying across the table at Draco. Professor Snape glowed blue, and the Imperious on Snape and Malfoy broke. They both started screaming as they collided into each other.

What most people do not know about Portkeys, is that they are a rather poorly designed piece of magic from a structural point of view. It basically used the object's center of gravity as a central point. All things part of the Portkey were treated as attached to the center of gravity seperately. For solid objects, this was fine. But for objects that did not have structural integrity, it had a rather negative effect. Especially since it did not negate the effects of inertia. Also, the addition of the experiemental 'Accelerans' removed all safeties, such as they were.

Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy vanished, traveling at thousands of miles per hour in the air towards Buckingham Palace. Given that the center of gravity for Snape was his gut, his intestines and organs were being liquified. Malfoy wasn't much better as he touched the Portkey with several body parts at once. Malfoy's bone was breaking and snapping audibly, and both were screaming loudly.

Snape retained his presence of mind and tried to Apparate them both to the lobby of St. Mungos. However, the excruciating pain of liquid organs and stomach acid, as well as traveling thousands of miles per hours, and right after a snapped Imperious, made for a rather noticible absence of Destination, Determination, and Deliberation.

Snape appeared in St. Mungo's lobby with Malfoy, a foot off the ground and spinning rapidly. Snape was splinched horribly into seven different parts, and Malfoy into six. Given the centrifugal forces, the body parts went flying rapidly through the air, smacking the other, now screaming patrons. Huge spatters of blood, liquified organs, and bone shards hit the walls. The Welcome Witch had fainted from the sight, and several Medi-Wizards were called to take them to the ER. Given that snakebites and broken bones were commonplace, the Magical Emergency Room was only for those on Death's Door.

It's a good thing that Harry hadn't read the next few pages of the book. Walking into a magical fire for transport cannot be healthy.

* * *

It was Christmas eve. Snowing heavily. And now it was the time for Harry, to steal the Sorcerer' Stone.

Harry stood in his room. Harry grabbed his bag, which he had recently enchanted to give him what he needed when he put his hand in. Harry collected the M.A.D. book, his journel, his stylus, and some blood quills. Harry also donned his ring, and held his wand loosely in his hand. He also grabbed his Rods, and the telescope.

Harry peered through, turning on the X-Ray and Soul functions so he could investigate. It looked like the Weasly twins were in the kitchen, and Filch was on the second floor. Harry looked to the third floor, and saw some kind of animal on the main floor. Below it was some sort of non-sentient life, but moving around. As Harry doubted that the teachers would use an octopus to safeguard the Stone, he deduced that it had to be Sprout's work. Harry looked deeper and saw several dark rooms, with one bright with some unintelligent creature. Harry turned off the Soul vision and turned on the Magic Detector, then zoomed in. There were some broomsticks in a room filled with several flying objects, and the next room had rowsof magical soulless figures. Golems? The next room was dark, but the final room had a odd object, with a rippling silver magic and some vague form of sentience, though it had no soul. Curious.

Harry shrugged and activated his strongest concealment pages in the journel. He then ran through the halls towards the third floor corridor. However, Filch had moved, and was now guarding the third-floor. Before turning the corner, Harry took a Blood Quill and began drawing some runes carefully into his knuckles. He shook out the Quill, spilling some drops on the ground, and then channeled some power into them. They lit up, a beautiful rippling crimson that cast a bloody light on the walls.

Harry turned the corner, and swatted Filch on the shoulder. Harry's skin became briefly electrified, and a flash of light blew Filch into the wall, an electrical ozone whafting through the halls, and weak curls of smoke rising off him. Mrs. Norris came barrelling towards Harry, and he caught the cat by the throat, this time allowing multiple zaps and jolts to course through it. Harry then walked over, and threw the stunned cat off the staircase. Harry could hear a faint crunch as the cat hit bottom.

Harry got his rods, and channeled a Stunning spell into them. Harry walked into the room, and just as the Cerberous tried to get up, Harry clashed the Rods together, sending a red wave at the beast. It slumped over unconscious. Evidently, while it may have been immune to magic in spell form, it seemed especially vunerable to sound and possibly music. Harry flicked his wand, and the dog was shoved into a corner of the room. Harry took out his journel, and flipped it to a rather new page on stopping motion. He charged it up, and jumped. Instead of falling to his possible doom, he floated down gently. While he was about ten feet from the bottom, Harry cast a _Lumos._

The tip of Harry's wand lit up, and the Devil's Snare conveniently moved out of his way, forming a hole. Harry shrugged and entered the broom room. It was large and spacious, with a high ceiling. There were dozens of keys flying around and Harry recognized his favorite teachers handiwork. Hopefully, Flitwick wouldn't recognize his.

"_Immobulus!" _yelled Harry, as he held his hands over the runes in his book. The keys all froze and floated in midair. Harry waved his wand, and several of the most likely keys floated down for Harry to try. After couple trys, the door opened. Harry entered a room with what looked like a giant chessboard. The pieces beckoned at him. Nope. Obvious trap is obvious. Harry was not going to play his way across. He pulled out his M.A.D. book, and flipped to a rather interesting chapter involving a dangerous branch of banned magic. He double-checked the incantation, and then closed the book.

_"Intermitto Gravitatem" _said Harry. A shimmering bubble issued from Harry's wand, and reached out to encase the room, walling off the doors. A similar bubble encased Harry, excepting him from the spell.

_"Ventus Tenebris"_ Harry cast, watching satisfied as the Dark Wind blew the chess pieces around the room.

"Yeah, just try to kill me in zero gravity, without legs, yah murderous berks. Haha morons." Harry mocked the chess pieces. They responded by making rude finger gestures at him as they flailed around in zero gravity.

Harry shrugged and exited the room. The next chamber held a Mountain Troll, bigger than the one that Harry had taken care of. Harry decided to try to use one of his darker Necromancy spells on it.

_"Vita Corpus Sanguinis Caro Somnus OBSTUPEFACIO"_

A black wave of smoke engulfed the troll, and settled into its skin. The trolls eyes turned an obsidian black, and it seemed to freeze in place like a statue.

Harry poked and prodded it for a minute or two, and then drew some blood for later.

Harry moved into the next room. As soon as he crossed the threshold, black and purple fire burst up over the threshhold, trapping Harry. There was a table in it that held seven potions of varying size, and there was a roll of parchment with some silly logic puzzle on it. Harry didn't like puzzles though. The solution to them was just too obvious.

_"Interminatis Frigus, et Tenebras, et Nehilitatas" _cast Harry.

The roiling inky darkness, that indicated cold so intense that it froze light, billowed forth from Harry's wand. The darkness greedily rolled over the flames and extinguished them, snuffing them out. The cloud kept going and Harry kept it orbiting around him, at shoulder level.

Harry entered the next room. It was a circular room, with a raised circular platform. On the platform, was the Mirror. The Mirror of Erised.

_You return..._

Tendrils of magic began curling out from the mirror.

_Look into me...what do you see..._

The Mirror had him, and they both knew it. Harry reluctantly began to focus on the Stone.

_"I want the Stone, I want the Stone, I want the Stone, I want the Stone" _Harry thought to himself.

He walked over the platform and stood in front of the Mirror. Harry knew that he had some measure of control over what the Mirror would show him, so he wasn't surprised when images appeared of him drinking the Elixir of Immortality, making powerful potions and rituals with it, using it in his runes, getting gold from it, even resurrecting his parents with it.

The Mirror was feeding from Harry's emotions, but was still being forced to show the Stone, which it did not want to do. It wanted to keep Harry forever.

"I do not want the Stone for use, not primarily. I want the Stone for saying that I aquired the Stone, I want it so I can humiliate Dumbledore, I want the Stone, in my hands so that I can beat you Erised. I want to be standing before you with it, taunting you and protecting it." Said Harry.

The images that the Mirror had showed him had inadvertantly clued him in to the condition of how to extract it. He needed to want it for the sake of having it.

The Mirror began vibrating, which was it's version of an enraged growl. As the image in the Mirror showed a alternate version of Harry slipping a glinting ruby-like stone into his pocket, the real Harry felt a weight settle in his pocket. He reached in, and pulled out the Sorcerers Stone.

Smirking, Harry turned around and began to head out. And thats when the Mirror struck. It had been biding it's time, and now silvery tendrils of magic blasted into Harry's mind, crushing through walls and searching for Harry's emotions.

All of a sudden, a glowing red blade, formed entirely of magic, manifested and cut the tendrils. They snapped back into the wounded Mirror, and it snarled in some strange mental language. Then another presence could be felt, older than the Mirror, yet younger than the Hat, and more powerful than both.

Harry looked in his hands, and a soft red light played across the surface of the Stone. A glowing light, light a miniature crimson sun, glowed in the Stone, and radiated a warm light.

_Enough. He is in my hands now. You will not bother him._

The Stone went silent. Harry walked out of the room. He made his way back, resetting the traps. He released the spell on the troll, then reset the chessboard after restoring the gravity. Harry then released the keys, but not before Enlarging the real key and closing the door. Harry floated himself up out of the trapdoor with the assistance of his runes, and revived the Cerberous. He then left the scene.

* * *

The next day was hilarious. Apperantly the shock to Filch's brain had erased the memory of that evening, and the Headmaster had tried to remove a Memory Charm that did not exist. He was also in a rage about the death of his cat, and tried to blame the Weasly twins, but there was no evidence.

Harry had examined the Stone and come to a startling conclusion. With his inside knowledge about immortals and artifacts, both would not hesitate to communicate with him and reveal more about themselves. Apperantly, the Stone, compared to the Hat and Mirror, was downright benign. Almost. What it did was inspire greed and temptation in all near the Stone to have it and covet it. But it didn't actually grant immortality or create gold. It was far more powerful. It was the opposite of the Mirror, in that it gave the user what they subconsciously wanted, as long as it was in the Stone's power. It granted wishes, but it was very subtle and slow about the process. It also apperantly fed on the humanity of the loser, but only the humanity that is naturally eroded as the user is given all they want. They peculiar effect of this, is that much of the humanity and morality was assimilated into the Stone.

Harry had 'spoken' with it, and thus had a greater control of what it granted. In the past, it was known for immortality and gold, and thus people trying to get it, got immortality and gold from it. Go figure. Instead, Harry was able to collect from it two powerful substances. The first, was a slow but permanent elixir, which over a period of time would permanantly stregthen the user's magic and Occlumency shields. The second, was the ultimate runic substance. It was a liquid versatile enough to mimic almost any substance in the world, changing from Basilisk Poison, to Unicorn Blood, to Dementor Tears. Perfect for use in Runes, Rituals, Potions, Alchemy, and other magics, even Wandmaking. Harry did pour a bit onto his wand. Unless consumed or destroyed, the substance was reusable. Yes, Harry was getting a hell of a lot of this stuff.

The first substance looked kind of like a bluish mercury, while the second substance looked like transparent molten gold. Harry was going to try to use it for a obscure ritual that he had found. Harry wanted to be an animagus. But he didn't want to be something lame like a wolf or pheonix(re:stomp on cliches). He wanted something cool. So he was going to use some of the Mutatio, as he had named it, in a ritual.

Harry was in the Forbidden Forest late at night for the ritual. He grabbed three vials of Mutatio, and one of Dementor's blood that he had bought from Diagon. No sense wasting Mutatio after all. One vial morphed into wraith blood, one into lethifold blood, and one into shade blood. All some of the most fundementally dark creatures in the world. Harry uncorked them and began drawing a rune circle on the ground with them. Then he stripped naked and began drawing them on hinself. When he was done, Harry pulled out a final vial of the Mutatio. It shifted, and then turned into a bright white vial of human soul. Harry threw this up in the air and let it sprinkle over him.

_"Creatura tenebricosioribus ego tollet forma"_

The runes began giving off a black light, and swirling. Smoke rose up from the ritual circle and the runes were absorbed. The smoke began coalescing into a tangibke form. But then the smoke charged at Harry, and before he could react, slammed into him and permeated his body. Harry began to find it hard to breath, and suddenly, he transformed.

* * *

**AN-HAHA CLIFFHANGER. So a fan wanted some vengeance on Snape because he was being a berk, and I refused last chapter. However, I figured that framing someone else was the best option. So, sorry draco/snape fans, but it is my sworn duty to slay the cliche. So interesting twist with a 'good' Sorcerers Stone, and I thought that it was realistic, how Harry was able to get through the traps. I gave you your rituals I promised, the Stone I promised, and the Blood runes were used this chap too. Also, I gave you some (minor) necromancy, some vicious bloody punishment of slytherins, and finally I will give in to temptation, and give Harry an animagus form. However, this will be realistic and useful, and not one that anyone has ever done before (to my knowledge). Though with my luck, you will all be inspired and create new cliches from this story. Eh, imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. Shoutout to ChaseTheDreamer and Hammer N Nail for long beautiful reviews. Yes they get teh shoutouts, and you people who didn't review dont. So review damnit. Also, try to guess what Harry's animagus form will be. If it is good enough, I may actually change my idea and use yours. You will also get a shoutout. Probably. So cheers, review fast because I have a daily update, and if you guys are inspired by this to write a super dark magic story more than 20k, then PM me about it and I will read it. If it is any good, you get a shoutout too. So yeah. Review.**

**-Lucifer**


	12. Chapter 12

_You're a ghost driving a meat-coated skeleton, made from stardust. What do you have to be scared of?_

_-Anonymous_

**Chapter 12-Cloths, Clothes, Cloaks, and Killing Curses**

As Harry writhed and transformed, it felt like he was dissolving. Utter agony, as his bones, organs, and very cells liquified, and became a thing of magic. What was left of his body was just liquid sorcery.

All of a sudden, Harry's sight began fluctuating, first turning fuzzy, then turning sharp. It shifted between monochrome and intense color, and day and night.

The transformation stopped, and Harry was left exhausted on the ground of the clearing. He steadily recovered, until still acheing, he meandered his way through the forest, still feeling unsteady, until he got to the Black Lake.

He went to the edge, to see his reflection. Total darkness met his gaze. A black fabric was rippling without a visible wind, but to Harry, that meant that he knew what he was. He was no dementor, nor wraith or shade.

He was a Lethifold. A Class XXXXX monster as defined by the Ministry. An amortal being. Harry closely resembled a thick cloth, or folded blanket(read:Unholy cross between Aladdin's magic carpet, the Blob, and a bucket of black paint). If Harry remembered his books, he was a tropical monster, which suffocated and ate humans at night. All organic matter would be absorbed into his body, leaving no trace of the victim. The perfect assasin. One that could turn invisible, float completely silently, and suffocate and kill a victim without a trace.

Lethifolds, given their composition and species ancestry, were also immune to magic. Being an amortal being, the Killing Curse did not harm it, and only a Patronous could drive it off. They were the missing link, a cross between boggarts and dementors. They shared some of a Dementor's powers, but kept a bit of the boggarts shapeshifting abilities. The true form of a boggart was sentient black tar but they would adopt a form their enemies would Fear, and then spread illusions over it.

Harry stretched out. It seemed that with some effort, he could also shapeshift, as he observed a black, formless appendage stretching out from his body. Harry began traveling in that odd floating motion. The black cloth would float through the air, as if carried by the wind, and then ripple without breeze in order to propel itself(read:Snape has Lethifold robes see:ZLovegood #billowingconspiracies).

Harry could feel his instincts urging him, and so, ever curious, he decided to go with the flow and get a first person view of a Lethifold feeding. Harry turned invisble, and rippled out over the Forest, and went to the nearest Muggle village. Trying to decide on prey, Harry finally spotted a college-age girl walking home after running a nearby coffee shop. Damn Americans. He silently followed her to her apartment, his instincts keeping him to the shadows, though he was invisible. When she entered the room, he hid under the bed, his instincts telling him that he had to be visible while feeding, and for a short time afterwards as well. She stripped off her clothes and prepared to go to sleep.

Deciding to try some experimentation, Harry ran a magical current over his body, like the electricity he employed against Argus Filch. He changed it to the same structure as a calming spell, and settled over the woman. She initially attempted to fight, but the spell had her relax looking drunk. Harry came off her and switched off the current. Apparently, because of the Lethifold's magic resistance, it would take a long time and a lot of practice before he could use spells in this fashion. Harry shrugged mentally, and fluttered until he covered the docile nude woman. He began wrapping himself around her, until she looked like a mummy. Then he began to sink into her, into her nose, eyes and mouth. The Calming Charm wore off, and she tried to thrash around but to no avail. She couldn't breath, she couldn't scream.

With a barely audible crunch and squelching noises, Harry ate her and absorbed her into his skin. Instead of a half inch thick fabric that he normally appeared as, he was now about a full inch thicker. An energy boost ran through Harry, and he floated out the window, trying to disguise himself against the night sky, as he still couldn't turn invisible. After all, he had to get back to Hogwarts in time for Christmas.

* * *

With a groan, Harry got out of bed for Christmas. His Housemates greeted him, but he was still tired from staying up late. He had learned that apperantly his unique vision had transferred over to his human form. He was able to see in 360° any direction, regardless of his eyes, and convert his vision like his telescope, so he could see heat, life, nightvision and other hunting based vision.

Using this, Harry kept track of what was happening around the room, and apperantly, it appeared that he had presents. Harry gathered them up, and took them to his room. Harry unwrapped them, and then inventoried his new possessions. Hermione Granger had sent him some advanced charms books. Ron had sent him some fudge and some god-awful sweater, probably trying to coax him to the side of the Light. Draco Malfoy had sent him some Honeydukes chocolate, and apperantly Hagrid had heard of his interest in magical creatures and sent a roughly hewn flute, and a box full of unicorn hair. Finally, there was an unmarked package. It appeared to be some sort of cloathes. Harry looked at the letter before opening.

_Your Father left this in our **possession** before he died. It is time that it passed on to you._

_Use it well._

Harry considered the letter, but couldn't puzzle out the meaning. It had to be from Dumbledore, but why did he say 'our' and why did he emphasize 'possesion'. Suddenly Harry turned pale.

_"...I could control every cell in your body, place you under compulsions so powerful they make the Imperious curse look like a first-year charm. I could do to you what you have done to your relatives, in a matter of seconds and without magic, just pure skill..."_

Possession. That meant only one thing. The Sorting Hat was controlling Dumbledore. Miny Harry's in his Occlumency many began to run around screaming in panic at the implications. The Headmaster was an unknown. The Sorting Hat terrified him. The idea that the evil piece of headwear was in complete control of his life made Harry feel rather queasy.

Still a bit upset, Harry opened the package. A long slithering cloak gracefully flowed out. Well bugger.

The Cloak was sentient. Harry could feel it. And it was extremely powerful, and it was old, older than the Hat, the Stone and the Mirror. Harry, after spending so much time around amoral magical objects, had begun to develop the ability to sense the charactoristics of an object.

This artifact, did not seem to feed on any human emotion. Rather, it fed on Death energy. And it had feelings of hidden protectiveness woven into it.

"What are you?" Harry asked.

_I am the Cloak of Ignotus Peverell, bonded to the Ancient Family of Potter, who descended from the Ancient Family of Peverell. I was created by your ancestor Ignotus, guided by the forces of Death, until I became a physical thing. I am the Cloak of True Invisibility._

Harry, while evil and sneaky, was still a Ravenclaw. His solution was to run for his books. When he got back, Harry cast some decent detection spells. What he found, amazed him. The Cloak, was not an actual cloak. It was a spell, so powerful and perfect, that it had actually gained substance, actually became a tangible object. It was a physical Fidelius.

Harry had learned about the spell in his M.A.D book, on the shielding chapter. The Fidelius in essence took the target selectivly out of sync with the universe and dimension. It was transdimensional. If a Fidelius was cast on a house, people do not forget because of some knowledge field as many theorize, but according to the book it was a side effect of making the target as if it had never existed in the first place. However, the spell was stable enough that it did not change the timeline, and so the house selectively existed. In effect a multidimensional one-way mirror, with the house and the world existing to those with the secret, and the house didn't exist to anyone else. Similarly, if something travels across the boundry of a Fidelius, they occupy the same space as the Fidelius but only can interact with the target if anyone in it, intentionally wills it.

_You are interesting, young Master Potter. I will allow you to channel your magic through me to truely use me. You should seek out my Kin, when the time is right. They will struggle, but they may accept you. You should note that while a Fidelius Charm is powerful, I am more so. I step much farther out of sync from this dimensional reality. There are those who say that the Cloak of True Invisibility can hide someone from the gaze of Death itself, while they stay under my protection. It is no idle boast. The laws of the universe are optional for me._

Suddenly, a hook latched onto Harry's magic. It began greedily sucking it out, nearly to the very brink. When Harry felt that he was about to pass out, the silvery cloak rippled and turned a deep midnight black.

On the back was a strange emblem written in a silvery blood. It was a Triangle, inscribed with a Circle, and both of them were bisected by a long silvery Line.

Harry Potter ceased to exist. All over the world, anything even vaguely related to Harry Potter disappeared, were ignored, and any and all memories of him faded.

Then, as Harry reappeared from the cloak, all the changes were restored. Harry grinned

* * *

The Sorting Hat was screaming in pain. Albus Dumbledore was unconscious, and there was no one to save him. The pulse of magic that had been releases from the Activation of the Cloak of True Invisibility, was powerful, distinctive, and had a very unique signature.

Fawkes has chirping approvingly. He had never liked that manipulative old Hat, and the phoenix had been patiently waiting for the day that the damned piece of ratty headwear pissed off someone he couldn't handle.

The Elder Wand, was very, very, angry. It had awakened from its light slumber by a very familiar pulse of power. In the castle. Which his on and off associate controlled. The Wand was not amused that the Hat had chosen to keep such important information from him, and now his brother had chosen a Master. One which had restored it. So the wand believed that some punishment was in order. A continuous blast of black chain lightning was erupting from the tip of the most powerful wand in the world, and had been doing so for the last few minutes(read:Darth Sidious eat your heart out). Normally this would not be a problem. The Sorting Hat could not feel pain.

However, the Deathstick worked in a rather different fashion than everyone imagined. The bloodthirsty Wand of Destiny, was an unknown. Therefore everyone imagined how it worked, and felt vindicated when it worked that way. Some believed that it boosted the power of spells and a users natural core. The Deathstick did do it for them. Others believed that it was an inexhaustible supply of energy. It was that too. In truth, it would meld to the perceptions of it's owners. Until it was unlocked by it's True Master, of all the Hallows, it could only work in the way it's owners expected. Unfortunately for the Hat, Dumbledore firmly believed that it was not more powerful than other wands, and that it was only able to break supposed laws of magic. Such as the ones denoting that magical artifacts cannot feel pain, and a wand cannot fire on it's own. Go Figure.

Fawkes was just there to snicker at Gideon, as he privately called the Hat.

* * *

_Chapter 9- Blocking the Unblockable._

_In this section, we will provide a brief explanation of that most famous of curses, and some common misconceptions about it. The Killing Curse, the most used curse by Dark Wizards and Witches._

_It was not invented by a Dark Lord, as the Light Side is wont to tell you. Nor was it invented by a Light farmer to painlessly kill livestock, as the Dark are wont to tell you. In truth, it was the final result of a decade-long experiment by some of the world's first Unspeakables._

_The goal of the experiement was in summoning various entities. However, while Unspeakables were successfully able to raise and direct Demons, they ultimately failed in summoning a God. The God in question was Death, and that was because the researchers were inspired by the Legend of the Deathly Hallows. The researchers were unable to convince Death to walk forth into this plane. They had done the research, and even created a portal for the entity to come through. However, this failed. So instead, the researchers did a ritual to forcibly summon Death to this plane. The results are classified, but the ritual officially failed, and the Death Energy permeating the room made it to be too unsafe for use. Thus is the origin of the Locked Room in the British Department of Mystery's. The Veil, as the portal was called, was moved to it's own room, and was furthur studied._

_However, there was an Unspeakable leak, which leaked the final words of the ritual. Avada Kedavra. These words by themself, summon the concept of Death in a spell form. For unknown reasons, this summoning works even when the physical doesn't. The spell is Death in the form of magic. Thus, nothing made of magic can 'block' it, as Death will not be denied by magic. However, it is still a spell, and thus physical objects can block it._

_However, while no spells can directly block it, there are spells that act as though they have blocked it, though indirectly._

_Time spells will guard against it. It is still a spell, and unlike true Death, it must travel through spacetime and spells dissipate._

_A shield that slows and stops time is effective against all spells, however the more that gets stuck in it, the more energy it pulls from the castor. The incantation is "**Protego Tempora Intermitto"**_

_Another shield which is effective is one which uses time magic to age all which comes in contact with it. The incantation is **"Protego Tempora Accelero".** An interesting side note is that magic is drained in a basis of how long it takes the spell to dissipate. Ironically, the Killing curse is one of the shortest as it is extremely powerful and unstable._

_The Absolute Zero spell, though even more dangerous than the Killing Curse, will also stop it. As will the Fiendfyre Spell due to it's unique properties. Refer back to Chapter Six for the incantations and safety procedures..._

* * *

**AN-Hey everyone, Lucifer here. Shoutout to KidaGirl8, Hammer N Nails, and RebeliousOne for long reviews and participation in the guessing game for Harrys animagus form. Kidagirl came closest, and referenced my two favorite magical creatures which will also come into the fic. Anyone else find canon Cloak to be super underpowered? So did I. My typical response is to introduce the bigger fish idea. I overpower central figures, and if they become 'harry sue', I overpower their opponents. Hope no one minds spur of the moment psuedo cannabalism. He was in his animagus form though so does it count? Eh. And yes guys, fumblemore is indeed possessed. He has been for a whike now. But no one noticed that dumbkes had black irises and was wearong the sorting hat while grinning demonically with Harrys first encounter with the mirror. So yeah. Anyone familiar with my other (hiatused) story called chlorine, they mught appreciate that I will try to intro the Burning Words next chapter. So yeah. Review harder yall. It makes me happy.**


	13. Chapter 13

_Don't you know there ain't no devil, it's just god when he's drunk._

_-Tom Waits_

**Chapter 13****_\- _****Quirrelmort(read:KILL IT WITH FIRE)**

_The Burning Words are the ultimate summoning of fire. They are a summoning of True Fire. There are four verses, with four words per verse. The first line is regular fire, the second is light, the third is destruction, and the fourth is obliteration. The verses summon steadily more powerful fire as you chant. Basic incendios and strong fires are the first line. The second line is light fire. The third is more powerful, and fourth is even more powerful. They must be chanted in order. Breaking off the chant must be done between verses. To truely finish, you must chant an additional fifth line, which doesn't obey the above rules. Chanting the fifth line without the Burning Words buildup creates a weak or unstable fire, such as 'normal' Fiendfyre and Gubraithian Fire. The fifth line sets the tone for what the castor intends to do with the flame, and using different incantations, one can creat True Fiendfyre, True Gubraithian Fire, Dragon fire, etc. The actual incantation and offshoots are below._

_"Ignis Fax Ardor Flamma"_

_"Lumen Lychinus Candor Fulgor"_

_"Incendium Incaendium Combustio Flagrantia"_

_"ARDEO FERVEO TORREO EXTERMINO"_

_"LUX AETERNA(Gubraithian fire) INARDESCO INFERNUS(Fiendfyre) SOL INVICTUS(Holy/Sun fire) AESTUO DRACONIS(Dragon fire)"_

_A side note to consider is that Fiendfyre is a fire which feeds on energy, matter and souls. Fiendfire emits no smoke, because it actually destroys matter and energy, breaking the Muggle and Magical Conservation laws. Always be wary of using such a spell..._

* * *

The year was almost over, and final exams were coming up. Harry didn't think that he would do all that badly in most of them, like DADA and Charms, but he was studying vigorously for his Potions and Transfiguration.

_"Verto Demutare!" _Yelled Harry, getting frustrated at his Free Transfiguration. It was just not right. He was able to cast incredible spells that could potentially destroy the school, but he couldn't make his thrice-damned mouse into a snuffbox. The mouse half transformed, and then died.

"Aw, bugger, that was my last one too." Giving it up as a bad job, Harry cleaned up and left the empty classroom, and began to walk back to Ravenclaw Tower. As he was ascending the staircases, he staggered back, as his scar burst into a fiery pain.

Half-blinded by the pain, Harry stumbled off the staircases to try to find a place to sit down. He staggered into an empty classroom, and got out his notebook. Harry first activated a couple painkilling runes, and then entered his Occlumency Maze. There was some sort of black whirlwind in it, an obsidian tornado that was tearing down his defenses. It was also leaking foreign emotions into Harry, and Harry decided it had to go.

Harry struggled, and eventually got a hold on the anomoly. He threw it into one of Harry's many Infinity Loop traps, and watched satisfied as the pocket dimension sealed off from Harry's mind.

Harry came back to his mind, and realized where he was. The third-floor corridor. Where the door was open. Where the dog was knocked out. And where the trapdoor was open.

Harry, wanting to find the intruder and possibly catch him for brownie points with the staff, transformed into a Lethifold, and darted down the trapdoor, turning himself invisible. It was a good thing too, as the plant that might have broken his fall, was charred into dust by some fire.

Harry proceeded to the Key Room. It looked like someone had already been through here, and closed the door. Not having time to be catching keys, Harry slid under the crack between the door and the floor. Sometimes having a practically two-dimensional form was handy. Not having time for the chess game, Harry flew above it and over to the other side.

The mountain troll was knocked out, and he went to the potions room. Again the black fire sprung up, and Harry had to transform back to his human form. Again, he didn't know the answer to the riddle, nor did he want to spend the time solving it.

_"Interminatis Frigus, et Tenebras, et Nehilitatas" _whispered Harry, trying not to use that much power. As a result, only a few wisps of the black smoke escaped his wand. It was still cold enough to freeze the fire and make it die out, but it dissipated right after.

Harry entered the final room. To his surprise, it was Professor Quirrel standing in front of the Mirror, staring deep into it.

"Mr. Potter. How good of you to join us. Oh what, were you not expecting p-p-poor, s-s-stuttering Professor Quirrel?" Said the man.

"I must admit I had not. In hindsight, it wa fairly obvious." Said Harry.

"Pity. I believe that you are intelligent enough to know what is being kept in this fascinating artifact."

"The Sorcerer's Stone." Stated Harry, deciding to try to fool Quirrel.

"Indeed. How do I get it." Asked Quirrel.

"...You really shouldn't be looking into that thing" said Harry.

"Oh?" Said Quirrel.

"It is more dangerous, than you realize. It is not just a puzzle by Dumbledore." Said Harry warningly.

"I am sure my Master will protect me. However, when I acquire the Stone, I can just destroy this frustrating thing." Said an arrogant Quirrel.

"Oh dear, you really shouldn't have said that..."Murmered Harry under his breath.

The Mirror, realizing the hostile intentions of the man before it, struck. Silvery ribbons of magic flew out and penetrated the weak mind of the man before it, emotions coursing through and shatterinf what meager shields the man had. And then stopped. The ribbons, expecting to tear through shields at a ridiculous velocity, crashed against a steel Occlumency wall at the very back of Quirrel's mind.

Professor Quirrel slowly stood up, even though by all accounts he should have been brain-dead.

He turned slowly in a circle, and unwrapped the turban on his head. His face was slack, like an unconscious person, and it struck Harry that he looked like a puppet, a twisted marionette. The turban fell off, and exposed a face. A terrible, twisted, serpentine face, with glowing red eyes, and just slits for a nose. The Dark Lord Voldemort was in Hogwarts.

Harry and the Mirror began feeling very nervous.

"Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. I will deal with you once this, abomination, has been dealt with. Because the Stone is not here, is it. No, I didn't think so." It said.

_"Energia Potentia, Magicae Insidiae" _Said Voldemort, pointing Quirrels wand at the Mirror.

A bright beam of magic shot out from the top of the wand. It collided with the Mirror and the Artifact began to glow brightly. A bright silvery nimbus, an aura of power began surrounding the Mirror. Like solar flares, energy would burst out and crash against itself. Eventually, the aura dimmed, and then died entirely. A long drawn out mental scream pierced the minds of both wizards, and then the Mirror shattered.

"Now, Harry Potter, I believe you have something I want." Said the face.

"Well I want to keep the Stone. That puts us at an impasse. Inconveniente, no?" Said Harry.

"Indeed. _Avada Kedavra!" _Yelled Voldemort out of the blue.

Harry dodged and then said "_Protego Tempora Intermitto". _A shimmering golden cloud of magic spewed out of Harry's wand just in time to catch a Killing Curse and two Organ-Rotting Curses, as well as a Diffindo. Even as a wraith possessing Quirrel of all people, Voldemort was by no means a pushover.

_"Diffindo. Fidelio Incantatem" _Harry tossed a Diffindo at Voldemort and then covered it with a Moving Fidelious charm, which was an experimental spell from M.A.D. book. Voldemort tossed up a Protego Maxima in a circle, and the Diffindo bounced off.

_"Frigus Sanguis_" yelled Voldemort. The Blood Freezing charm almost hit Harry, and he had to dodge a Crucio and two AKs.

Harry threw up a Protego Tempora, and then took a deep breath.

"_Ignis Fax Ardor Flamma"_

_"Lumen Lychinus Candor Fulgor"_

_"Incendium Incaendium Combustio Flagrantia"_

_"ARDEO FERVEO TORREO EXTERMINO"_

_"**AESTUO DRACONIS!"**_

As Harry chanted, a flame appeared at the tip of Harry's wand. It kept getting hotter and hotter, brighter and brighter, until it was a white-hot ball of roiling flames. At the final incantation, a white burst of flames blew out of his wand like a flamethrower. A loud crackling could be heard emitting from the Dragonfire.

Harry called back the flame to the little flame at the tip of his wand.

Voldemort was standing in the center of a pit of molten stone and brick, face twisted with rage and concentration of holding up a Protego Maximus. Everything in his shield was preserved, but had sunken into the molten rock. The shield flickered out, and the two stared at each other.

Harry sent another quick blast of the Dragonfire at Voldemort, and while he was defending himself, Harry transformed into a Lethifold and flew behind him. Quick as lightning, the Living Shroud wrapped itself around Quirrel's body like a black mummy. Harry squeezed, and the bones broke, and Harry digested it, with an odd burp. But it wasn't over yet.

Voldemort's wraith disengaged from the body, and then lunged at Harry in his smoky form. He bounced off by virtue of Harry's Lethhifold constitution, and escaped.

Wearily, Harry floated out of the chamber as well. He made his way out of the corridor, and just floated his way up to the Tower, instead of waiting for staircases. When Harry got there, he collapsed in his bed and fell asleep.

* * *

The Sorting Hat was laughing to itself. It's ploy with Harry Potter had evidently worked.

It was eavesdropping on the conversation between the staff.

"I regret to inform you that the Sorcerer's Stone of Nicolas Flamel has been stolen. Also, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrel, seems to have disappeared at the same time. It is my belief that he has stolen it and escaped, possibly to aid Lord Voldemort, as I suspect he was a servant of the man." Said the Headmaster of the School, Albus Dumbledore.

They were all gathered in his office by his desk. Gideon the Sorting Hat was still snickering for odd reasons, but they ignored him. Severus had finally returned from St. Mungo's but was stuck floating around in an enchanted chair. Apperantly, full recovery would take another few months, and he should not under go any strain.

"How did this happen? I thought you said the final line of defense was inpenetrable?" Asked McGonagall.

"While I was down there, I observed a heavy taint of powerful dark magics, a molten pit in the ground, and a shattered mirror. Since only Voldemort could destroy it outright, it is my belief that Quirrinus used a Dark Ritual to destroy the mirror, which also explains the pit. It is likely the backlash from the ritual." Said Dumbledore, stroking his silvery beard.

"Shall we organize a sweep of the castle? Just in case?" Asked Sprout.

"No, I have had the House Elves check the student's belongings several times during the night. Either whoever stole it is out of the castle or took it with them, or they have kept the Stone on their person the whole night." Said Dumbledore.

"Enough of this talk. What do you all think of young Harry?" Asked Dumbledore curiously.

"Oh, my young Raven is simply marvelous. He gets most charms on the first try, and is much higher than his yearmates. Definitely my favorite student. I also heard from Bathsheba that he may be interested in runes, but if he is, he has not followed up with either of us." Said an excited Flitwick.

"He is very poor in transfiguration. He valiently attempts to improve his skills, but I can see that he has no natural talent unlike his father, and has several mental blocks he tries to overcome. I would give him time, but there is no way that Transfiguration would be used in battle by him." Said McGonagall.

"Interesting. Severus?" Asked Dumbledore.

"The brat is intelligent and cunning, admittedly. However, he is terrible at Potions, only scraping past his utter confusion and lack of understanding, with rote memorization. He does not, and cannot understand the interactions of the ingredients." Said a reluctant Severus.

"The dear child is very interested in plants. He enjoys working with them, and while he has no natural green-thumb like Mr. Longbottom, he is generally very intelligent, and easy to talk with." Said Sprout.

"Hmm. I have given him his father's invisibility cloak, however no one has reported finding him at night. Also, as soon as he touched it, my tracking spells evidently slid off. Perhaps an effect of returning to a family member. Why did he not respond to the compulsions and hints to come and investigate the Stone?" Asked Dumbledore.

"I believe that Mr. Potter will take direct action if someone is relying on him and he is the only one who can help, as evidenced by Halloween. I regret to admit it, but without Mr. Potter's aid, Mrs. Granger would likely be dead now. Otherwise, he seems to hold his faith that authority will take care of things. If he knew anything about the Stone plot, he evidently had supreme confidence in our ability and responsibility to handle it." Said Flitwick.

"Interesting, very interesting. Well, this meeting is over. Severus could you stay behind?" Said Dumbledore.

The others shuffled out of the room. As soon as they were alone, Severus turned to the Headmaster and asked, "What is it Headmaster?"

"I was hoping you could get in touch with your old friend Lucius. I have heard disquieting rumors about next year, that will need to be confirmed." Said Dumbledore.

"Very well Headmaster." He replied. He left the room, leaving Dumbledore to his thoughts.

* * *

**AN- Yay! Obligatory fight with Quirrelmort over! Made him a bit more powerful, but i daresay he expended too much power destroying the mirror. Maybe another chapter or two about school, then comes summer and obligatory Dark!Harry. Also more twists. Reviews are my friend. So review. Shoutout to lolol1991 and BMS for outstanding reviews. (I i see the same reviewers reviewing, but i am reluctant to give people multiple shoutouts over and over against. But I know who you guys are, and I do notice you. There are about five people regukarly giveing me long reviews and I look specifically for yall.) Anyway i also gave another M.A.D. spell for you readers to turn over in your mind. First unpossessed sneaky Headmaster scene so I hope you liked it. Mirror is gone, he/she/it was getting to be a prick. There are plans for the Stone and summer, so be aware yall. Love you guys, and review harder.**

**-Lucifer**


	14. Chapter 14

_Those who play with the devil's toys will be brought by degrees to wield his sword._

_-R. Buckmeister Fuller_

**Chapter 14- Darkness Rises**

_"Per me si va ne la città dolente,_

_per me si va ne l'etterno dolore,_

_per me si va tra la perduta gente._

_Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:_

_fecemi la divina potestate,_

_la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore._

_Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create_

_se non etterne, e io etterno duro._

_Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'entrate..."_

A sing-song voice echoed out from under a tree. A boy was sitting by the Black Lake. He was reading poetry from his book, sitting under the leafy shade of a nearby tree. It was his day not to be evil. Harry had a policy of taking a day off each week, to not be deliberately evil and create murderous magical weapons. It was tiring. Just last week he had gotten too bored with that, and went to the Hospital Wing to switch the labels on the healing potions and Skelegrow. One poor little boy had gotten about four times the normal dose of Skelegrow when he turned up after falling down a set of stairs. He then had to be Flooed to St. Mungos because his bones were becoming malformed. Apperantly they had to vanish the kid's skeleton and put him on a four week Skelegrow regimen. They had eventually put the whole incident down to a management error. Ahh, the joy's of framing the bureaucracy.

Normally though, Harry did take a day off from his intense drive of evil and power-aquisition. Harry just wanted to be a Dark Wizard. Not a Dark Lord. The way Harry saw it, Dark Lords were just very powerful ambitious Dark Wizards. But Dark Lords died more often. Whereas powerful Dark Wizards just kept to themselves without much fatalities. Dark Wizards are the children's nightmares, the ones that don't pose a threat but will kill you very horribly and painfully if you encountered them, annoyed them, or pursued them. An interesting bit of trivia that Harry very much enjoyed, was that the brothers Grim were actually squibs, and the original unedited manuscripts of their famous 'fairy tales' were actually true stories that wizards tell their children to get them to behave. Later though, the Ministry got on their case and forced them to edit the versions dozens of times, eventually ending up with the modern version, which was considerably less dark.

"What language was that?" Hermione Granger asked, startling Harry out of his thoughts."It sort of sounded like Latin, but not quite."

"Indeed, it was Italian. A very famous line, from a very famous poem, from a very famous poet. Almost all Italians would recognize it. _Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'entrate." _Harry said, bemused.

"So what does it mean then?" Granger asked, looking cross.

"Abandon all Hope, Ye who enters here." Said Harry, a soft smile playing about his lips.

"...Dante. And rather grim at that. You're kind of wierd." She said bluntly.

"So you did catch that reference. I am impressed." Harry said.

"Yes well. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you. I found some things in some, err, questionable books. I wanted to ask you about it, because well, you are like the most neutral guy there is. Also there are some rumors about you being Dark." She said nervously.

"And you thought that they might be true, and thus I am a good source. " Harry finished. "Hmm, what are your questions?"

"Well you see, some of the books were providing justification for Dark Magic, saying that it's not about the magic, its about the intent. They were holding the Unforgivables up as examples, say..."

Harry cut her off. "That is mere propoganda. There are always books that say that the Killing Curse is used as a painless method to kill farm animals. Books that say that the Imperious is used to help crazy or suicidal people, prevent them from hurting themselves. And books that say that the Cruciatus can be used to restart the heart. Thus, when used that way, the intent is good, and thus it is Light. Am I correct? Now tell me why that is wrong. You are a smart girl Granger, you should be able to get it."

They sat there under the tree for some time, Hermione trying to understand. She actually took out a piece of paper to organize her thoughts, and Harry was treated to a whole array of frustrated facial expressions as she tried to understand.

"I don't get it! Why can't the Unforgivables be used for good purposes!?" She finally burst out.

"Granger. Why are they Unforgivable curses?" Harry asked, slowly shaking his head at her blindness.

"Because they are the worst spells that can be used against a human being, if used incorrectly." She said.

"Wrong" said Harry. Grangers head shot up, confused.

"The Unforgivable Curses are thus named because of how they are cast. You really think that there isn't magic worse than them? No, it is how the spells operate. Crucio means pain in Latin, correct?" Asked Harry

"Yes" said a confused Hermione.

"That is a rather broad word, subject to interpretation, don't you think? It could be stomach pain, or a headache. So, instead, it just makes the victim feel all possible pain. There is no pain greater than the Cruciatus, simply because it is the definition of pain. However, it is a hard spell to cast. A lot of power must be applied because it covers all the possibilities of pain. Also the most important component is the intent. As with all spells, you must have complete concentration on how to get the results." Lectured Harry.

"Like Free Transfiguration? Where you have to imagine the item changing into something else?" Queried Granger.

"Indeed. But if Crucio means pain and torture, then having the focus on saving someone with it will make it fizzle out. To cast it, you have to mean it. You have to _want_ to cause infinite pain to a person, to torture them into insanity. Similarly, to use the Imperious, you have to want to control the victim, want to enslave the victim, want to absolutely crush their free will. And to cast the Killing Curse, you have to have an absolute killing intent, a ray of absolute pure hatred. Righteous anger or rage will not do it. That is why these are the Unforgivables. Because to successfully cast them, you must be at some level, an evil person." Finished Harry.

All of a sudden, Hermione's eyes filled up with tears, shining and glistening. She let out a choked sob and hid her face between her legs. She was crying quietly, and Harry could catch pieces of words like "terrible person" and "slave".

Harry pieced together what must have happened.

"...Hey there now, you think you are the first person to look into their soul, and see something they don't like? Everyone has their own little bits of evil. Some reject it, and ignore it, choosing to live their lives like it isn't there. Some accept it, making them that much stronger. And yet others embrace it, some becoming harmful, others not as much. There are still...shards...of a special mirror. It was broken, but some of it's residual magic remains, just enough to show you the deepest desire of your heart. If you encounter a boggart, it will show you your greatest fear. Self-knowledge, good or bad, only makes us more human. Only people that refuse to accept that knowledge, become less than human." Harry finished out that rather philosophical idea.

"However, it isn't bad to be evil. Morality is just a creation of the mind, and the way I see it, if you believe yourself moral, then you should still count yourself that way. You could choose to be evil, and just be happy, rather than tying yourself down. Tell you what. If you can say, outloud, "I forgive myself", then I will hold you under the Imperious Curse." Said Harry, smiling a bit.

Hermione was shocked out of her sobbing.

"What kind of stupid deal is that?! Why would I take that!? You could just control me." She yelled quietly.

"Because, while we have not interacted, I understand you a bit. If you do not do this, you will always be burdened by guilt and doubt, with you not wanting to be evil. I swear I will not control you to do anything. And if you are worried about intent, than I can assure you that while I do want to influence and control you, the Imperious Curse is not the way to do it." Harry said smoothly.

Hermione looked torn. On one hand, she wanted to refuse, do the smart thing, the Hermione thing. One the other hand, to feel pure happiness was just so appealing.

"I can't believe I am doing this." She muttered. "I-I forgive myself" she said quietly.

Harry just smiled at her.

_"Imperio"_ he said, flicking his wand.

Hermione couldn't think. She couldn't feel. She was just in plain, exquisite happiness, unmitigated bliss. She was floating on a cloud completely comfortably.

_When you leave Hogwarts for the summer, if you truely are evil, then be yourself and never apologize for it._

* * *

Everyone was in the Great Hall for the End-of-Year Feast. The Slytherins had won the House Cup, with 569 points. The Hall was decorated with silver and green drapes and tapestries to the House of Cunning.

Dumbledore stood up, his silver beard flowing out, and the Hall fell silent. He began to speak.

"Another year has passed. And I must congradulate our fine Slytherin House on winning the House Cup again. I hope you have had a wonderful year and will have an excellent summer."

The Slytherins all cheered. The Ravenckaws clapped reservedly, and the Puffs and Gryffs didn't clap at all, instead choosing to glare balefully at the Snakes.

Everyone ate, and while they ate they reminisced about the school year and discussed what they were going to be doing that summer. Eventually, the Feast ended, and Harry said his reserved goodbyes to his Ravenclaw classmates.

After the Feast, the children packed up, and boarded the Hogwarts Express. They left and Harry was able to fall asleep, being quietly thankful that that brat Malfoy was still in the hospital and no one else came to annoy him.

After hours and hours, the train arrived. Harry got off the train, and wandered through the station. He spotted his guardians waiting for him, and with a slight tug to their Chains, they got out and helped Harry with his luggage. They loaded it all up and then got back in the car.

When Harry got home, he called for his Wights.

"Castor, Pollux, I want you to incapacitate and kidnap several people. Teenagers. I have pretended to be good for far too long, and now I want to bask in evil." Harry said, a chilling smile crossing his face.

"Yes master" said the pale undead children, bowing at the waist to Harry.

_It is time to make an army..._

* * *

**AN-WOOT FINALLY. Couldn't really figure out how I wanted to do that. Evil hermione is going to happen, and very much necromancy will be happening. Also some plot twists during the summer. No Wight romance, because they are like 7 yr old zombies with a mind. Even though they may be cute, it would be bad for the reader ship here if i endorsed 12 yr old pedophile necrophiliacs. So, no. Shoutout to Navn Ukjent and Hammer N Nail for awesome reviews. You guys are awesome. Admittedly, this was a pretty crappy chapter. Anyway. More evil harry. Cause its cool. Cant think of anything else so if i am missing anythibg just pm me.**

**-Lucifer**


	15. Chapter 15

_I grow daily to honour facts more and more, and theory less and less. A fact, it seems to me, is a great thing; a sentence printed, if not by God, then at least by the Devil._

_-Thomas Carlyle_

**Chapter 15-Coming Full Circle**

Hogwarts sucked. Now don't get me wrong, it was an awesome place full of magic to learn. But at the cost of the original magic. Blood Runes...

-Harry Potter

* * *

Harry, was plotting. This was not an unusual occurance, except that he was not in Hogwarts. No, Harry was back on his home turf, without any need to hide his powers and abilities. Except for the fact that there was someone spying on him.

Harry hid in his cupboard and watched the bloody runes rearrange themselves in a crimson lightshow. They glowed, and softly rippled, forming a map of Privet Drive, wuth every occurance of life and magic registering on it. Walking on the dusty plywood floor, and stroked the map, and it shifted according to his touch.

"Magical soul detection, activate" said Harry quietly.

All of the other labeled dots disappeared from the map, just leaving three dots. Himself, in Number 4. His batty old neighbor Mrs. Figg, who Harry had determined to be a squib, and finally one last person. Someone named Mundungus Fletcher.

Harry crawled over to his bunk to retreive his rune equipment. He would not tolerate hidden people spying on him, as he observed from the others thoughts with the telescope. Coincidentally, the X-Ray function could see through Invisibility Cloaks as it was not based exclusivly on sight.

Harry prepped his ring, and powered up his Trace was only on his wand, so hw was safe there. One of the more interesting things that Harry had discovered was that work all the runes and magic that Harry had poured into his cupboard, the entire room could act as a focus in its own right, though infinitely more complex than a wand, and it could only operate within the ward radius that it could project.

Harry used a Blood Quill, and began drawing a new sequence for magical intruders. Strange symbols tore themselves open on his hands, and Harry began to feel that high that he got whenever he used his runes.

Runes for thunder, runes for lightning, runes for rain. He wrote them and powered them, stroking his hand across the runes and lighting them up in a bloody crimson Aurora Borealis, shimmering and rippling. The immense power of them sent static sparks flying off the wood, and the scent of ozone filled the cupboard. Lastly, Harry embued it with a sort of consciousness, a hungry mind of an attack dog.

_"Fulminandum_ _Tempestas!"_

Outside, thunder rumbled, and the wind picked up speed. Like ink being dropped into water, clouds covered the sky with unnatural haste. Leaves began tearing themselves from trees, and being thrown to the mercy of the winds. Rain started dropping, peltting the ground like bullets.

The drunk wizard across the way jerked awake from his drunken slumber.

"Blimey! The fucking bugger is 'appening out 'ere?!" He said.

He drew his wand and prepared to call the Knight Bus, but then suddenly, thunder boomed, and a hungry bolt of lightning jagged down through the sky, splitting into dozens of tendrils and striking the wizard with and all-mighty boom. A bright white flash obscured the wizard as hundreds of thousands of volts of electricity coursed through Fletchers body, frying and boiling his blood vessels and rupturing his organs, in a ravenous magic driven bloodlust.

He screamed and abruptly fell silent, as his body was literally blasted apart by Harry's vengeance. From inside the cupboard, Harry activated another few runes. A tendril of energy coursed out from the cupboard, and touched Fletcher's body. A flash of heat ran through it, and then it began to crumble to a fine grey ash.

Harry just chuckled to himself ominously, to the sound of dramatic thunder.

* * *

"Hey Castor" asked Harry the next day.

"Yes master?" Replied the Wight.

"I need more flexible servants. So I need to experiment on you guys. Get Pollux and set up those operating tables I had you steal." Said Harry.

Harry left them to take care of his demands, and then retrieved some rocks that he had been working on. The rocks had runes engraved all over them, as a result of several days of work. Harry didn't really have any tools small enough to engrave the pebbles sufficiently, so instead he just enlarged it, and then shrank it when he was done. He had etched out the runes with a chisel, and then sealed them with highly magic conductant blood-iron, which he had made a couple days ago.

The runes were varied. One stone would grant enhanced energy absorbing abilities to the Wights, including absorbing and putting out fires, and absorbing magic. The other would grant a rudimentary ability for the Wights to use Intent-Based magic. This, Harry felt, would make them much better and more formidable servants. After all, he needed someone to take care of him, and House-Elves were wierd, ugly, and all nutters. Harry didn't need that kind of thing.

Harry walked down to the basement which had been converted into a Necromantic lab. There were all kinds of odds and ends, such as summoning and ritual circles, to vats of foul-smelling magical liquid. Harry headed to the operation table, where the Wights had already stripped down laid down, after preparing Harry's table full of knives and scalpels.

"Alright, now I've tested these stones outside your bodies, and I've gone over the runes so I believe they should work together. Now I just need to find the proper place to put these." Said Harry.

The Wights stared at him impassively, with black eyes overlaying the pupil, iris and schlera. Harry put on his mad scientist coat, which he had bought at the local costume store for 5 pounds, and put on a face mask. He snapped his rubber gloves into place, and wiggled his fingers at a nearby dictaquill, activating it for records.

"This is Harry James Potter, July 16th, of the year 1993. Recorded as self-proclaimed Master Blood Mage and self-proclaimed Novice Necromancer. The subjects are Necromantic Creations 1 and 2, species Wight, codenamed Castor and Pollux. The subjects were 7 years of age at time of expiration, and have since been fully restored to previous bodily capacities, though still functionally dead. They are semi-sentient creations, but do not at this point in time have any free will. The purpose of this experiment is to augment energy manipulation powers. Let the experiment proceed." Harry said.

The quill scribbled rapidly across page, only pausing to refill itself, before it resumed its frantic dance. After a couple seconds, it stopped, dramatically hopped once in place to make a period, and then stood at attention.

Harry grinned at this and then picked up a scalpel. He started on Castor. He drew a thin line up from the collerbone to the navel, and then deepened it and opened up the cold undead flesh. Harry pried back the skin, getting black blood all over him, and then picked up on of the rocks. He tried putting it in several places, most memorably behind the liver, and that little space where Harry cut out the appendix, before finally deciding to put it right behind the heart. Harry wasn't too concerned with being rough, as A. Castor and Pollux didn't feel pain, and B. They didn't really need a heart anyways.

"Come on, get in there damnit! Umph. Grr. Ok, I think it's there" sighed Harry, after forcibly shoving it in. He waved a blood covered and at the quill to have it cross out the previous exclaimations.

Harry then tried to put in the other stone but it wasn't working. He kept trying different locations but the stones weren't connecting. It had been almost an hour before he came up with the idea of storing it in the head. Harry had Castor flip onto his back, and Harry began cutting at the back of his neck. Harry gently peeled back the flesh, and exposed the spine.

"Here we go." Said a grinning Harry. He took a drill, and carefully drilled into the back of Castor's skull, making and expanding a hole there. Once it was big enough, Harry shrunk the stone down and powered it up, before putting it into Castor's skull. Harry's monitors indicated that the stones connected, and were functional.

"Excellent. Castor, drain some heat energy from around us." Commanded Harry.

Castor lifted his hand, and the room temperature dropped about 10 degrees.

"End report, mission success. Now implementing on counterpart, codename Pollux." Said Harry. He grabbed his old healing stone and haphazardly shoved Castor's organs back in his body, then touching him with the stone. The blood runes on the stone flashed gold and the stone flashed hot for a second, then cooled again. Just like that, Castor was whole and without a scar.

"Ok Pollux, your turn..."

* * *

Harry was playing with the Philosopher's Stone again. The Elixir of the Mind could only do so much, and now the maintenance of Harry's Occlumency Maze was up to him. Similarly, the Mutatio substance had been gathered extensively by Harry. Now, he really only used it to put Basilisk Venom in an enchanted squirt gun. The people at the morgue were very confused, and Harry had laughed himself silly for weeks before just sending Castor to do a heavy Confusion magic on them.

So now, Harry just wanted to play with it. He took great delight in using it to turn things to gold and back. One of these days, he was just going to turn the Gringotts doors and Plaque to gold, just to piss off the goblins who thought that gold in any other form than a coin, wasted and a personal insult to goblins.

_If you seek something to do Master, then you should track down and visit with immortals. It is my belief that the Sorting Hat was playing games when it did not Obliviate you. He seeks to have you as an immortal in your own right, but in a very careful way. If that is indeed the case, then it would be wise to make allies if you were to enter this hidden world. You have already made enough enemies. Seek out the Dementors of Azkaban. They are a formidable people, for they cannot die, and each of them holds Mastery and Dominion over the Magicks of the Soul and Empathy. Even immortals woukd think twice before crossing them. Bring me with you, as a symbol of your favored status by Death._

Eh. He didn't have anything else to do. Might as well read up on em first.

* * *

_Dangerous Creatures Compendium XXXXX Class:Sentient_

_Dementor_

_The Dementors as a race are foul vicious creatures. They are among the foulest beings to walk this Earth and are spawned in and are attracted to death, decay, and misery. They spread terror and despair wherever they go, and are chief as the Darkest Monsters to walk the Twilight Plane. _

_Their power is great, for they can control and drain emotions and thoughts out of a person, often choosing to feast on the best emotions until a person is left a husk, a corrupted being with his worst thoughts and memories no better than the Dementor themselves. They cannot be killed, and they possess the power to eat the soul of another. Souls are things of great power and energy, and thus a Dementor can live for thousands of years with a single soul, and far extend that time by supplementing their diet with emotions. _

_They breed infrequently due to greed, as breeding halves the power of the Dementor as well as requiring many souls to accomplish. Only when it is for the greater good of their race do they do it. They are known to be sentient, and can be bargained with. The Dementor population of England guards the Wizard Prison of Azkaban, and continue to do so for the souls involved. There is some speculation on whether Dementors are related to Lethifolds, which live in the tropics..._

* * *

Deep in the ancient Wizarding Prison, a man bides his time. He is pale and his hair is dirty, due to the filth of his cell. He feels the enchantments cling closely to him, so familiar after all of these years. One of the monsters, an Undead being shrouded in darkness approachs his cell. The cold increases and the happy emotions are drained from the man. But he is strong. He will escape. He must now.

The man glances over to the copy of the Daily Prophet that had been tossed to him a year ago. The headline reads "The-Boy-Who-Lived comes back to Hogwarts!".

He must meet with this boy. He must make up his mistakes. The man grins a crooked smile with crooked yellowing teeth. He must escape now. He is not thin enough to slip through the bars in the cell door, but while he is thin, he is still yet strong. He glanced at the hallways. Clear.

The man lifts up his foot and hammers it against the door. Three times he kicks it, and three times again. Then, the rust and age take mercy on him. The rusty hinges crack and shatter, allowing to cell door to fall down. The man goes and creeps down the stairs, narrowly avoiding the guards. He keeps wandering in the labyrinth, until he finds the main gate. Without the guards in sight, he runs out.

When he gets out to the outside, he spreads his arms out wide and inhales the fresh air. There, the situation actually registers and a glint, a special gleam in the man's blue eyes appears and grows, a look that had not been there for all the time he was imprisoned. He begins laughing, a horrible, raspy, creaking laugh.

"FREEDOM!"

* * *

Harry was eating breakfast, and getting ready to go on his trip to Azkaban. He had already packed his cloak and weapons and was about to leave, when suddenly an owl flew in to deliver the Daily Prophet, which Harry had gotten a subscription to a while ago, to keep up to date.

Still holding his spoon, Harry untied it with some difficulty and then paid the post owl, which flew off. He unfurled it to read it, and then dropped the spoon, his blood turning as cold as ice, and his face as pale as his minions.

**"PRISON BREAKOUT LAST NIGHT!" **the headline read. Harry slowly put it down, and then dashed to his cupboard and jacked up all the blood runes, turning Little Whinging into a magical fortress, activating every single defense and commanding his Wights to go patrol under Notice-Me-Not.

The rest of the headline was left in the wake of Harry's flurry of activity. It read, **"THE DARK LORD GRINDELWALD AT LARGE ONCE AGAIN".** It kept showing the image of a blond-haired, blue-eyed man, laughing sinisterly under the gates of Nurmengard. Right under the slogan ,"For the Greater Good" which was carved in dozens of languages.

* * *

**AN-SURPRISE PLOTWIST CLIFFHANGER! I really hope you didn't see that one coming, cause neither did I. Like seriously, I just wrote it out of the blue. When Harry gets too powerful, I just give him more enemies and powerful people. Also, I dont know wtf that was with Fletcher in the beginning. I just dont like him and wanted the excuse of using more blood runes. Yes people, every summer scene, blood runes goes back to its roots and necromancy and blood runes. Hope you like it. Anyway, shoutout to BMS and Hammer N Nail. Awesome reviews guys. I love you people. I hope you know that the longest reviews get shouted out right?. So review damnjt. Got some more summer scenes and I have a vague idea of what to do with the diary. So, yeah. Please review. Also you can suggest your own ideas for the story. And btw, how many people thought i was going to have sirius escape a year early. Lol. I was that vague on purpose. Anyway, review.**

**-Lucifer**


	16. Chapter 16

_An apology for the devil: it must be remembered that we have heard one side of the case. God has written all the books._

_-Samuel Butler_

**Chapter 16-Stupidly Dangerous People**

"Alright, we need to make that alliance with the Dementors, as soon as possible. One Dark Lord is bad enough, but two?! That just strains credulity." Said Harry.

He was debating with the Cloak about the ideal next action. After the escape of Grindelwald, Harry had raised all possible wards from the cupboard, and then set Castor and Pollux on high alert. He then spent the night translating from the M.A.D. book and making the Blood Rune equivalents to some of the simpler spells.

_You are correct young master. However, I would advise much caution. Have your servants teleport you to the Island Prison, and into the influence of the Dementors. Once you are under their power, the Dark Lord would not dare attack you. _

"Ok, that sounds reasonable. Let's have one of them stay behind though. Also, it may be prudent to bring some of my Necromancy Materials. I have been wanting to try creating a revenant, but I cannot find any suitable vessels. Perhaps at the Azkaban Graveyard. I heard they sometimes bury criminals that never got to Azkaban." Said Harry.

_Perhaps it would also be advisable to go in your Lethifold Form. You will be unaffected by the emotional aura of the Dementors, and they may grant you additional consideration, given the relations between the two._

"Sounds good to me. Also, if they turn hostile, I cannot use the Patronus, as I never took the time to learn it. Will the _Sol Invictus _variant of the Burning Words be effective against them?"

_It should work... However it would draw much attention and would turn the Dementors against you. However, keeping a last resort is always wise... Now put me on, so that we may travel._

Harry took the whispering Cloak, and swung it over his shoulders. He had Castor pack his Necromancy bag, and then give it to him.

"Pollux, report." Said Harry.

The pale corpse popped in front of Harry, and gave a short bow.

"Yes Master. There has been little to no magical activity in the area. There were several owls, apperantly directed to Mrs. Figg, however I intercepted them and drained the life and magic out of the letters and owl, as per your instructions. The letter, once cleansed, was a set of instructions to Mrs. Figg from Albus Dumbledore to keep a close eye on you given the status of the Dark Lord Grindelwald. I also destroyed the Floo network in the neighborhood, and placed Mrs. Figg under several crude confusion spells." She said.

"Excellent. Continue to carry out my orders. Castor and I will be taking a trip to Azkaban. Be wary, and should you encounter any magical people, drain their powers and life energy, and then imprison them under strong confusion spells." Harry said.

"Yes Master." Pollux said, before popping away.

"Come on Castor. Take us away." Commanded Harry.

Castor laid a hand on Harry's outstretched arm, and with a soft popping noise, they were gone. Harry couldn't breathe. It felt different from what Apparation was supposed to feel like. It felt like Harry was accelerating through empty space, cheeks literally jiggling as he felt the weight of forward G-Forces. Similar to Star Wars, Castor and Harry abruptly dropped out of 'hyperdrive' and found themselves stumbling over the grey, rocky beach of the Island Fortress of Azkaban. Harry took a few deep breaths to recover himself and then stood straight.

Harry transformed into his Lethifold form, and stretched and compressed himself until he vaguely resembled a human shape wrapped in jet black clothe like a mummy. This done, he slowly walked/floated over the black-sand beach, and came to the obsidian gates of the Fortress. Even from here, he could feel the intense pressure of the Dementor's influence surround him and attempt to drain his emotions, but slipping off his Lethifold nature.

Castor walked behind him, his own Wight nature protecting him from the icy winds and potent aura of the Undead Dementors. They walked up to the gate and waited.

Harry, with his limited Legilimancy abilities, threw his mind forward to contact the guards of the dread fortress. His mind flew out into a black void, only to behold a mental hurricane, a deadly telepathic whirlwind generated by the formidable hive-mind of the Dementor. It was an icy wind, lined with razors of hostile intent. Finally, they spoke in an eerie rasping unison.

_Who dares intrude on our fortress. Who dares invade our home..._

Harry prepared himself, and said _"I am Harry James Potter, of the Most Anciente and Noble House of Potter. I am friend to the Dark, and self-proclaimed Blood Mage and Novice Necromancer. I come seeking knowledge and teaching of the Soul Magicks which your race holds Mastery over. I also hope to establish ties of friendship and alliance between us."_

Harry waited for a few tense minutes, and then the colony replied.

_You may enter Stranger, but be warned. You are at our mercy, and we do not tolerate those who attempt to take our prey._

All of a sudden, Harry was thrown back into his body, his shroud twisting around his humanoid form in agitation. There was some indefinable shock that ran through the air. With an all might creak, the Black Gates of the Dread Fortress Prison of Azkaban opened.

* * *

Harry and Castor moved though the halls, ignoring the screaming pleas of the prisoners. Castor walked, making satisfying clacking noises on the grey granite of the prison bricks, and Harry had reverted to his normal Lethifold appearance, a black sheet floating through the jail.

They came to the courtyard, and stopped abruptly. The Dementors were there, staring at them with sightless eyes. They resembled grey, gaunt, corpses, skin wrapped tightly over bones, and draped in tattered cloaks. They hovered about a half foot off the ground, and Harry could feel the suspicion emanating from the creatures.

Harry compressed his Lethifold form into a humanoid shape, and stood up.

"Who is your leader?" Asked Harry.

The Dementor congregation parted, and a much stronger presence emerged from the back. It appeared to be a Dementor, but it's aura was exponentially more powerful than the others. The air plunged in temperature. It had been about 10° Fahrenheit, due to the congregation of thousands of the Dementors, but with this one alone, the air plummeted to 30° below zero.

It was wearing a suit of armor, made of black cast-iron, and frozen with the beings aura. Engraved with runes of deadness, nullness, entropy and void, the suit of cold iron was nearly immune to any and all magic. It was engraved with skulls of human shape, with protruding vicious spikes at many of the joints. It stood two meters tall, and under its black helm, no face could be seen, only a shroud of darkness.

_Harry James Potter. We finally meet. I am the Dementor King._

The telepathic message was broadcasted from the creature, and the voice was different from the dementor. It was a vile high-pitched keening, a cold buzzing as sharp as razors and harsh as the very stones of the prison.

_You wish to learn the secrets of the Soul? The secrets of Life, Death and Emotion? Why should we teach this to you?_

"Because I wish to gain power. I wish to learn and bask in the Darkness. From you, I would learn the Cold Magicks. And I have been commanded to beseech you thus."

_Who commands one who would be Our Pupil?_

"The Immortals and Artifacts of the Ancients. This world, hidden behind a hidden world, was revealed to me by the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts. Since then, I have encountered and won a battle of strength with the Mirror of Erised, and had the Sorcerer's Stone come into my possession. And finally, I have restored the Artifact of my forefathers and Ancestors. I have restored the Cloak of the Dreadlord Ignotus Peverell. I have restored the powers and potential of a Deathly Hallow, the Cloak of True Invisibility." Said Harry formally.

He turned back into his human form, and shrugged the Cloak off his shoulders. The jet black garment slithered gently into his hands and Harry knelt to present it. As he changed back, the combined aura hit him like a bucket of icy water. The emotions and despair began coursing through Harry's Occlumency Maze. The Maze was holding it alright for now, but like any flood, the levels of emotions were rising and Harry's could feel the first trickles of dread that characterized Azkaban.

The Dementor King slowly extended an unnaturally long finger, encased in cold iron gauntlets, and touched the fabric. It pulsed under his finger, and thousands of memories coursed into the mind of the Dementor King. A vast, incomprehensible presence filled it's mind. THIS, was the Deathly Hallow, a cloak made from the Cloak of Death, and it's magic pulsed under the Dementor's tender fingers. If Dementors could look surprised, then this one would be, as it feel the crushing weight of Death, for Dementors are the servants of Death.

_I accept your terms for alliance..._

The Dementor slowly withdrew its finger, and then twisted it's head to stare at Harry.

_One of my retainers will teach you the Magicks that you desire..._

* * *

A blond-haired young man strolled down Diagon Alley. His blue eyes held a mischievous twinkle, and he was grinning broadly as the sun reflected off his white teeth. Several witches hurried over to meet him, but apologized profusely when they saw his face.

"Oh, I am so sorry sir, but, I thought that you were the famous Gilderoy Lockhart. He is supposed to be signing books in the Alley for several days this summer and today was one of them." She babbled.

"Oh no problem ma'am. I know I look similar to him, we are both very handsome after all." He said flirtingly.

The witch blushed and walked away stammering apologies. The man simply laughed and kept walking.

Finally, he came to his apperant destination. His smiling face remained, but all the good cheer drained from his eyes, leaving them a cold, icy blue. He stepped into the tiny dusty shop.

"Mr. Ollivander. I must speak vis you." Said the man.

Ollivander walked out from behind his shelves. He began smiling coldly to his customer, a terrifyingly unfriendly expression. It looked more suited to Lucius Malfoy than to the usually amiable old man.

"Gellert Grindelwald. I hear that you are in trouble these days."

Still amiable, Grindelwald only shrugged.

"I hear zat you 'ave retained your legendary neutrality. I vould be very sorry, if it 'as faded avay over ze years." He said.

"Indeed. What do you want?" Said a chilly Ollivander.

Neither of them particularly wanted a fight. Ollivander would surely win, but Grindelwald was a fully-fledged Dark Lord, and he didn't want his shop damaged.

"Vhy, I am in need of a vand. Vhy else?" He said cheerfully.

"Hmm. Drop the pretences. You are skilled enough to steal one and then use it, making your way to a shady wand crafter." Said Ollivander.

The last remaining hints of good humor drained from his face, leaving only a cold man. A dangerous man.

"I am in need of a audience, to ze High Counzil. I know zat you hold a zeat on it. I hafe plans, that need to be put in motion." He said.

Ollivander stood stock-still for a few moments, milky pale eyes drilling into the icy chips that were Grindelwalds.

"Very well. Perhaps the wand first." He said.

"Zat vould be a relief." Said Grindelwald, as his glamours flowed off his face, hair turning stringy and yellow, wrinkles forming, and teeth turning rotten. The only thing that remained were steely blue eyes.

* * *

**AN- Hard chapter is HARD. So gave you some Grindelwald to ponder over. Still debating with myself whether to have Grindelwald impersonate Lockhart for a more interesting plotline, or if I should keep Lockhart for the plot logic, and excellent murder value. Gimme a suggestion guys. Shoutouts to Rebelliousone and Hammer N Nail. Impressive predictions on the second year and you have made me feel better for randomly offing Fletcher. Emily, there will be human interaction, never fear. Also, I need some suggestions on what to do with Dobby. Do I off him, enslave him, help him, vivisect him? I am leaning in favor of offing him cause I don't want to write his stupid accent. So yeah. review harder I love you all.**

**-Lucifer**


	17. Chapter 17

_The devil divides the world between atheism and superstition._

_-George Herbert_

**Chapter 17- The Council Pt 1.**

* * *

"Alright where did he go?" Asked a slightly irritated Harry.

After the day's lesson in Soul Magicks, Harry had decided go to the Azkaban graveyard. For several days, while they were living under the Dementor's hospitality, Harry had expressed a wish to create a new undead servant, the next step in his path of becoming a Necromancer. A Revenant. The tricky thing about Revenants was, other than being extremely power-draining as well as complicated to make, was that the original soul had to want revenge. Revenants are spirits of vengeance, powered and strengthened by the injustice dealt to them in life. They also retained their soul and mind.

Of course, Harry had not been able to find any souls that died wishing bloody murder on anyone in life. Not in Privet Drive anyway. He had even done the whole process, and ritually summoned the soul of each possible candidate to evaluate them. So, he had thought about the process logically, and figured that the way to find a angry spirit, was to visit the Azkaban Graveyard. Everyone knows that convicts always feel that they got the short end of the stick.

Interestingly enough, the convict that Harry had most wanted to use, did not wish vengeance. Percival Dumbledore, the father of Albus Dumbledore, had gone to Azkaban, but he wasn't bitter about it.

_"Those Muggle boys, they hurt my daughter. Hurt her somethin bad. I couldn't let that stand, now could I? So I done hurt em back. Gave 'em what was rightly coming to 'em anyways. But they are dead now. I likely could've avoided Azkaban, by telling the truth, but I couldn't do that. I done let myself be locked up, so my daughter wouldn't be. Ariana though? She had it bad for a long time. She got hurt, and then ignored by young Albus. Then she got killed, in a lovers spat I heard. Boy, you listen to me. I will give you this one last piece of advice. The Dumbledores are strong. Kendra was a powerful witch in her own right, but the House of Dumbledore has almost always produced Lord-Level Magicals. You remember that now, you hear..."_

So Harry sent Percival back to his rest and tried to find another powerful servant. He kept looking, for hours, but most of the souls were illiterate thugs. Then, the Dementor King pointed Harry to a small walled off section of the graveyard. That part, he explained, was for those who died in Azkaban. This part however, was for those who died and were posthumously declared criminals. There, Harry found a dead Death Eater. A lieutenant. A powerful young duelist. And someone who was called the male Bellatrix Lestrange. Evan Rosier.

Harry performed the ritual, which involved an excessive amount of spilled blood and Blood Runes, a huge ritual circle, some dicey Soul Magic learned from the Dementor's, and a stupid amount of raw power. He had rather foolishly tried to combine the resurrection ritual with the body restoration ritual that he had used on his twins. That, along with the unexpected trouble in juggling a soul, magical core, and life force while losing a huge amount of magical power, caused Harry to black out.

When he came to, Castor was there looking odd, almost...sheepish? No, Castor was a reanimated corpse with no mind of his. That, was that. Firmly ignoring the necromantic anomaly that was his servant, Harry asked where his new servant was.

He got no answer. Harry pulled himself up and dusted off his robes, which now had graveyard dirt and rocky pebbles in them. Gross. Just as he was about to order Castor to find his new ally, a voice rang out.

"The man who lies asleep will never waken fame, and his desire and all his life drift past him like a dream, and the traces of his memory fade from time like smoke in air, or ripples on a stream." Said the youthful voice.

Harry turned and observed a dark-haired man, with high cheek-bones and a glint of merry insanity in his eyes.

"Evan Rosier. You are a fan of Dante? I wouldn't have thought a pureblood would be a fan of Muggle literature." Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

"And that is where you are wrong!" Rosier cried, grinning in enigmatic amusement. "Ah, to experience Dante's travel through Hell, the woeful suffering, and then rise above oneself into Purgatory, and finally to Heaven! T'is the greatest of wonders. So you are my new Master?"

"Yes. You are currently a Revenant, a spirit of vengeance, empowered by wrath. Your magics grow stronger with emotion, I believe." Said Harry.

The Death-Eater looked pensive for a moment. Then he grinned insanely and flung his hand out. A jet-black fireball burst out of his hand, roiling and twisting with a greasy smoke to blast a small crater near the edge of the courtyard.

"Very intriguing. However, I shall need a wand." He said.

"A wand? But you aren't a wizard anymore, you are a Undead Creation." Said Harry, frowning as he tried to understand the enigma that was before him.

"Ah, how entertaining. The servant outstrips the Master. I am not your typical pureblood. I have researched things that many others don't even know about. A lesson for today. Wands, are the great equalizer. They have the ability to channel magic and convert it into it's pure form. Do you think that laws against house-elves, goblins, and centaurs holding wands are simply symbolic? On the contrary, any creature that can willfully emit magic and focus their mind, can use a wand. Human accidental magic is very different from wanded. Oh, it is true that one may have their wandless magic mimic and adapt to look like wanded magic, but indeed, magic done wandlessly can break several of the so-called Rules of Magic. After all, what kind of moron would attempt to block a Killing Curse wandlessly, when they know they cannot do it with a wand..." Rosier winked at Harry as his mind began to ponder the implications.

Was it really that simple? Did powerful wandless/accidental magic in spite of the famous Killing Curse, allow one to delfect it?

"It does. And no I was not reading your mind, just your face. Your Occlumency is powerful, but your poker face is atrocious."

Harry sighed in relief, as Rosier's claim assuaged his fears.

"We are not doing anything today, I presume? So let us go get a wand, shall we?"

* * *

"Ah, dear Ollivander! It is so good to see you again." Said the flamboyent dead man. Ollivander, for his part, just looked vaguely amused. "Ah yes, Garrick and I always did get on so well. I believe it was the precocious combination of ethereal transcendence on his part, and blissful insanity on mine. Though with a certain amount of whimsicality for both of us."

"Evan Rosier. Black Walnut and Unicorn hair, 13 and 3/4 inches. Tempermental. An odd wand for a Death-Eater, but I daresay it suited you whilst you were alive. What brings you calling?" Asked Ollivander, slowly polishing his wand.

"Ah, that would be the fault of this young man. He seems to be desiring some reliable allies, and how could I refuse him? After all, I do wish to take vengeance on my old crowd, who abandoned me to my death, and I most definitely wish a rematch with Alastor Moody. He is truely an excellent duelist, and it would be churlish of me to deny it." Said the jovial Rosier.

There was a pause. Then Ollivander shrugged, and began pulling out wands for Rosier to try. After the usual assortment of discarded wands, Evan found his new match in another Black Walnut, this one 12 inches with a Unicorn Hair.

As they turned to leave, Ollivander stopped them.

"You do not want to be leaving. You see, you have an appointment with someone. The High Council." Said Ollivander.

"The High Council? Bah, thats an old myth." Scoffed Rosier.

"The High Council?" Asked Harry.

"Aye. A myth told to pureblood children. A hidden, shadowy council, made up of the leaders of every branch of magic, as well as all the Lord-Level wizards and witches in the world." Said a patient Rosier.

"The Council is no myth." Said Ollivander, with a faintly annoyed expression on his face. "I myself hold the Wand Lore seat, and have status as a Lord-Level wizard and Immortal."

"Really?" Said Rosier, slightly disbelieving.

"Indeed. Now, young Harry was called to answer a petition. Unfortunately, he does not yet have an introduction. He is simply not important enough to go before them. This puts us in a bit of a conundrum." Said Ollivander.

"Seriously? Not important enough? I am a Master Blood Mage, with an ongoing Apprenticeship in Soul Magicks, and a self-study in Necromancy. I also am the Acknowledged Master of the Cloak of True Invisibility, which I restored to it's former glory, as well as the Master _pro tempore _of the Sorcerer's Stone, also known as the Philosopher's Stone and Flamel's important shiny rock. Given that he is the ONLY alchemist to have made one in recorded history, he almost has to be on the Council. If for no other reason, I should be allowed to go and return it, thus necessitating a meeting. I would bet that his stores of the Elixer of Life are getting rather low." Said an indignant Harry.

"Ah yes. That could get you an introduction, I would think." Said a slightly embarrassed Ollivander.

"Unimportant my arse." Harry muttered under his breath.

"Indeed. We can use the Floo connection in the back of the shop." Said Ollivander.

He strode to the back of the shop, and opened a hidden door behind a shelf. The trio walked in. It was dusty with some cobwebs and it was littered with wandmaking equipment. They stopped in the main room.

"No. Hell no. Not cool." Said a grim Harry.

The Floo, was not a fireplace like normal. It was instead a large circular pit filled with a mound of sticks. At the top, was a wooden stake jutting out.

"Consider it a matter of convenience. No wizard is going to step on that to transport themselves, and if any ask, I can say that it is in remembrance of my great grandfather. The disguise is very good, and if by some chance someone finds out the Floo address to this place, and tries to come here without permission, they will get a rather delightful surprise in the form of ironic security. It also allows me to transport multiple people and large objects, which is often useful when obtaining wand-making materials." Said an entertained Ollivander, obviously finding humor in his guest's uneasiness.

"Come on, step on the pyre. The address is Latens Imperium" said Ollivander.

"Hidden Authority. Now doesn't that sound ominous?" Harry whispered disgruntled to Rosier.

"Ah, but I am Undead. If something goes wrong, then I will survive." Evan murmered while smirking.

They all shuffled to stand on the stack of wood. Ollivander threw down a fistful of Floo Powder and shouted "Latens Imperium". However, unlike the normal Floo which burst into green flames, this version caught fire in a ring around the edges, and the flames began swirling counterclockwise, faster and faster into a windstorm. The leaping tongues of St. Elmo's Fire twisted and swirled as if the trio were in the eye of some demonic tornado. Suddenly the scorch marks on the ceiling made a lot more sense. Then right as the fire reached their feet, a massive tugging sensation grabbed Harry and threw him into the storm.

He was twisting, faster than was possible, and was rapidly accelerating through a tunnel of green flames through a infinitely dark void. Out in the distance, what looked like emerald lightning flickered, in every direction, up, down, left, right, forwards and backwards. It was truely dizzying.

Finally, the tunnel contracted around Harry as if he flew into a funnel, and spit him out with tremendous velocity. Harry appeared from a ominous obsidian fireplace, flying out as he retained some of his momentum. He made an impressive arc, and then hit the slippery marble floor and slid about five feet. Next, Rosier flew out, his journey not much better, and Ollivander finally walked out sedately, with a smug smirk on his face.

They stood in a massive hallway. The walls were jet-black, a contrast with the white floor, and were ordained with gothic architecture, the ceiling held up by cast iron arches. The walls held torches with flickered with a fire, the same emerald color as the Floo. Harry looked around. Behind him, there were no doors, only the fireplace. In front of him, at the end of the hall, there was a massive wooden door, reinforced with bands of iron and with incredible amounts of runes on it. A near impregnable entrance. All too easy to send a burst of Fiendfyre to immolate any intruders. With the amounts of magic that Harry could feel coming off the stone, the defenders would only need to sweep out the ashes, without even a scorch mark on the hall.

"Shall we knock?" Asked the cheery Rosier

* * *

**AN-CLIFFHANGER! AGAIN! THIS IS A BAD HABIT! ** **Anyway, so new chapter, with new bodyguard who actually has his mind. In case you are wondering, I am trying (unsuccessfully) to base his charactor off the one in stories by LightningontheWave. Which is an excellent fanfic series I must say. So yeah. Go read if you want to spend a few (hundred) hours reading. So, YAY! We are at 40k words. Which is like my minimum legnth for fanfics. Woot. So shoutout to lolol1991 and Rebelliousone who gave awesome reviews. Also a very special shoutout to Hammer N Nail. I had PMed him with a special challenge to figure out a clue to upcoming plot devices. And he got it right. Congradualtions sir. Anyway. I know this chapter is later in the day but I had AP exams. Sucks. So more plot twists next chapter, and after that I get to play with Dobby! Woot. Ok. The challenge for next chapter is to try to name as many characters who may be on the council if you can. Extra points for saying why. So yeah. Review please. I love you all. If you love me, then review. **

**-Lucifer**

**EDIT- Fun trivia fact of the day, necromancy is the most popular form of magic and occultism, appearing in almost every culturer and religion. True necromancy is divination by consulting the dead. It appears everywhere, from the Odyssey, to the Bible, to today's modern séances. **


	18. Chapter 18

_Those who consider the Devil to be a partisan of Evil and angels to be warriors for Good accept the demagogy of the angels. Things are clearly more complicated._

_-Milan Kundera_

**Chapter 18- The Council Pt.2**

* * *

The massive ironbound oak door swung open, completely silent, eerily like a ghost. The group walked in, Ollivander at the front, and Harry following him with Rosier bringing up the rear.

The inside of the room was impressive and were in the center of the oddly shaped room, and stood on a circular platform that was clearly for addressing the crowd. The platform was surrounded by an odd amphitheater, which looked similar to a juror's box, but the room itself was shaped like a figure eight, an infinity symbol that dictated the curvature of the audience seats. The platform was sitting in the center of where the infinity symbols lines would have crossed over. The Council Members in one loop were wearing sets of dark crimson robes, and the Council Members in the other loop of the room were wearing a deep black, with strange emblems on their robes.

This was all very hard to observe as the Council seats were dark and in shadow, wheras the platform was bathed in a bright white light, obviously intended to blind and intimidate those who come before the Council.

"I am Garrick Ollivander, immortal holder of the Seat of Wand Lore, and holder of the Seat of Ollivander in the Lower Court. I come before you today to address recent issues and concerns with one Harry James Potter, son of James Potter, and the acknowledged Destroyer of the Dark Lord Voldemort. He comes before you to answer the petition and to make several petitions of his own." Said the old wand-maker, coughing a bit after removing the voice amplification.

"You have been heard and acknowledged by the Council, Lord Ollivander. Take your seat." Said the unknown speaker.

Ollivander winked at Harry, and then Apparated with a crack of displaced air.

"Harry James Potter, you have been called here today to answer a petition. As part of the bylaws of the Lower Court of Lords, any Lord-Level Wizard who does not qualify for a seat in the Lower Court, nevertheless retains their right to an audience with the Council. As such, the Dark Lord Grindelwald has petitioned for an audience with us, as well as a reevaluation of his potential to sit on the Council. We have reconsidered his qualifications, and with a caveat that he does not willfully return to the public's eye, his seat has been granted. Furthermore, he has requested your presence, in his capacity of Lord, in a petition to train you. With your consent, we would be willing to allow this." Said the speaker.

Harry's mind was blown. A fully-fledged Dark Lord, was not trying to kill him, he was offering to _train him! _His mind was just being filled to the brim with fantasies of learning incredibly dark magic and blowing away his opponents. However he didn't entirely lose his wits.

"I request that Lord Grindelwald give his reasons for this petition." He said, outwardly appearing calm.

A second spotlight appeared in what was apparently the Lower Court, with a crowd of red-robed wizards. Slowly, one of the wizards came to his feet, apperantly ailed by arthritis or some other joint disease. His face as sallow and wrinkled, with his skin sunken and pulled tight against his face, giving the appearance of a skull. His hair was yellow, and hung down in greasy strands which came down to his shoulders. His teeth were yellow and crooked and fingers trembling. All in all, it was not an impressive sight, but for one thing. Deep in the sunken eye-sockets, two eyes looked out at Harry, staring at him, judging him. The color kept shifting with the light, they were a hardened ice, flinty granite, sharp steel. And in them, there was the glint of that which makes a Dark Lord, the infinite cruelty, and lack of remorse or regard for human suffering. THIS, was the Dark Lord Grindelwald locked in his shell of a body. Grindelwald opened his mouth, and began speaking in a heavy German accent.

"Ahh, but it is good to be out of mine own prison, no? Young Potter. I 'ave gotten old, and unfit for zis vorld. I need an heir. I believe zat you 'ave ze potential to be mine apprentice, an perhaps, my heir. After all, zat fool Voldemort is not dead, as ze Council knows, and I am getting too old to chastize little upstarts. You, vill be ze lynchpin, vhere ze fate of ze vorld vill depend on you. You shall be formidable, and I vill ensure zat you take zis vorld by storm! Do you accept?"

Harry's mouth dried up. He finally managed to say, "I accept".

Grindelwald winked at Harry.

"Excellent. Now, I believe that there were some other issues?" Said the Speaker.

"Indeed. I would like recognition of my official status as a Blood Mage, and of my status as an Apprentice Soul Mage, as well as an evaluation of my skills as a Necromancer. I also would like to inform the Council, that I possess the Cloak of True Invisibility, and that I have restored it to it's former state. I am also the Master _pro tempore _of the Sorcerer's Stone, also known as the Philosopher's Stone. I would like to return this artifact to Lord Flamel of the Alchemist Seat of the High Council." Said Harry, improvising on the spot.

Harry snapped his fingers, and sent a telepathic command to Pollux. She appeared in the center of the platform, kneeling with the Sorcerer's Stone lying on a purple pillow. There was a crack, and suddenly a stern-looking short old man was there. He had an oddly pudgy face, covered by a beard so that his head looked like some oddly made sphere.

"I am Lord Flamel. I thank you for giving me my most precious creation. Know that you have the goodwill of the Council." The ugly old man said. With another crack he was gone.

"Harry James Potter, the Council thanks you for returning this Artifact. We will hereby grant your other requests. We call the Dark Lord Grigori Rasputin, of the Necromancy Seat, Duncan MacDougall of the Soul Magicks Seat, and Countess Elizabeth Bathory of the Blood Magicks Seat to verify your claims." The Speaker said.

Three more cracks were heard, and a trio of three people teleported in front of Harry. The first was a dark-eyed dark-haired man, with a beard, and a slightly insane look in his eyes. The second appeared to look like a balding white Muggle medical doctor of all things, and the third was a seductive young women dressed in regal finery.

"I am Grigori Rasputin," the first man said. "Summon your Necromantic creations, and the book you have been using."

Harry shrugged, and then called Castor and Pollux, and beckoned Rosier to step forward. Castor and Pollux appeared, with Castor holding the Necromancy Book, and then shuffled in line in front of Rasputin.

"Interesting" he said, paging through the book. "It seems that you have not done some of these projects, but instead skipped steps to create your Wights and Revenant. They seem to be relatively well-made, and I believe that Gellert is fairly proficient in Necromancy himself- so he can bring you up to scratch. I would rank you around a Journeyman level."

Rasputin nodded his head at his fellow Council Members, and Apparated out. The secind man stepped foward

"Hello, I am Dr. Duncan McDougall. I am here to evaluate your Soul Magic." The balding Doctor said.

"Why is the seat not occupied by the Dementor King?" Harry asked curiously.

"Honestly, the seat is his, but his duties call him away so often that I have been appointed to his place in his absence. If you are being taught by the Dementor King, then chances are you should have a unique little mark on your own soul. I am just here to look for that."

McDougall flicked his wand, and what looked like a glowing monocle appeared. He held it up to his eyes, and then began staring at Harry's chest. He made a couple odd noises, and then began walking around Harry, with his eye to the monocle.

"Well it looks legit. It seems that you are being taught by the Dementors, and they seem to be doing a fair job at that." Duncan said.

"Ok, just a few more questions. Couldn't the Dementors have verified for you? And also, why weren't you and Countess Bathory introduced as Lords?" Harry asked.

Duncan began to speak, but his companion, Countess Bathory interrupted him.

"Well, Heir Potter, it is because magical rank comes first here, and then noble rank. Believe it or not, neither of us are truely immortal, nor Lords. Rasputin has found a way to prolong his life but he is not immortal either. The reason it seems like immortal Lords dominate the Council, is because of the logistics. Immortal wizards get very bored, and over the centuries, do you not think that they enjoy experimenting with and perfecting their magic as a form of amusement. Also, the older a wizard or witch gets, the more powerful they get. After a few centuries, many wizards get to Lord-Level. I am close to that mark but not quite there yet. I am around 400 years old, but I was a near squib in my youth, which led me to practice Blood Magic to gain more power." She said.

MacDougall shrugged and Apparated out, without the two noticing.

"So then I presume you use Blood Magic to retain life and youth?" Asked a fascinated Harry.

"Indeed. One of the most effective rituals is to bathe in virgins blood. There are several reagents required, but I am proud to say that I created that ritual myself, adapted from the Potion of Youth created by the Dark Lady Medea."

"The one from the legend?" Asked Harry.

"The very same. Now why don't you tell me about your exploits, hmm? Your own creations." She asked.

"Well, I primarily use runes as my medium, and blood to write it. I actually started before I kmew magic existed, and so instead of the traditional runes, I made up my own runic alphabet. That allowed me to do some things which the Norse system didn't allow. I have been able to create an intelligent warding system. Though, it is more of a ranged focus that broadcasts my desire for protection, than an actual ward. I also have extracted life force, souls, and magic from animals. I find that enfusing them with blood ashes creates a wonderful rune base for permanant runes."

"What are Blood Ashes, pray tell?"

"Simply blood which had been cooked. It creates rather interesting effects, as it is very magically conductive, as well as easy to infuse with other substances..." They gossiped about Blood Magic for a while, until the Speaker, which was revealed to be THE Morgana, Head of the Council and Holder of the General Dark Arts Seat, gave him leave to depart. In other words, she threw him out.

* * *

According to the Council, Grindelwald was going to start lessons on Harry's birthday, after Grindelwald's potion regimen was to be completed to reverse the damage caused by Nurmengard and the Liches and Wraiths which guarded it. Harry was excited. It was going to be an awesome birthday.

* * *

**AN- YES JERRY, I KNOW THIS CHAPTER IS SHIT AND THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED FOR THREE DAYS! BUT I HAD F##KING AP TESTS DAMNIT! THOSE THINGS ARE THE WORK OF THE DEVIL! Yes, i have a new imaginary friend, his name is Jerry, and he is made up of the collevtive consciousness and personality of my readers. Say hi to Jerry. Anyway. This chapter was really hard to write, and so yeah. Ugh. Gah. I may rewrite it when i have time (read:NEVER). And yes, you now know a tidbit of my personal life. You may now deduce that I am #####################REDACTED##############. So yeah. Now you know the truth. I still bet that you will all make conspiracy theories about me though (if i were only popular enough :'( damnit) so yeah. Dobby is next chapter, as well as some training scenes. I may draw out the summer a bit because i have gotten messages that i haven't used enough dark evil blood magic. Whatever. Maaayyyyybeeee some romance with Bathory in the future. BIG maybe. Possibly. Anyway, those are the council members that have been introduced so far. Surprise, I am actually taking muggle historical figures and making them into OC's. I may also toss in Archemedes for Arithmancy, and probably Circe and Morgana, for Potions and Enchantment's. Possibly Paracelsus or Aesepcioulus(cant spell it) for healing. You can google all the people mentioned in this chapter, and they will come up as real people. Except harry, ollivander the twins and rosier. So yeah. Shoutout next week for anyone who can name the backstory of any three of the council members mentioned in this chapter. Also, shoutout to RebelliosOne and Hammer N Nail for excellent attempts. Hammer N Nail would have been dead on if I were going for a crossover council, but no such luck. RebeliousOne has guessed best, with a couple of the council members now and future. CONGRATS. Now be good little readers and review.**

**-Lucifer**

**P.S. This long AN is not because I was ashamed of my short ugly chapter and felt like babbling. Nope.**

**P.P.S. Speaking of ugly, google the images of Nicolas Flamel. Omg he is so ugly.**

**P.P.P.S. also free shoutouts to any who guess a real fact about my personal info. The conspiracies will prevail.**


	19. Chapter 19

_However much I have frequented the mystics, deep down I have always sided with the Devil; unable to equal him in power, I have tried to be worthy of him, at least, in insolence, acrimony, arbitrariness and caprice._

_-Emil Cioran_

**Chapter 19-Grindelwald, Dobby, and the Magical Play-Doh of Doom**

* * *

It was July 31st. Harry's Birthday. And it was going to be a stranger day than most.

"Fucking Play-Doh!" Yelled Harry angrily.

Now this is a sentence, that is not often heard, especially from the juvenile sadistic Blood Mage. It's like hearing Voldemort screaming about bunnies, or Hitler giving commands in German after taking Helium to make his voice higher. It was just fucked up, and mind-blowimg and mind-boggling on so many levels. Of course the 'WTF' factor slowly dies down, when you hear that Harry was in fact trying to make deadly weapons with it, Voldemort found out that his Animagus form is a bunny, and Hitler with a high voice was just the product of some 9-yr-old American girl making YouTube paradies. Though only the one about Harry was true(probably).

Harry was trying to make Blood-Infused Play-Doh, for his new focus. It was proving to be challenging.

"Ok, lets see. I have already established that a voodoo doll can be used in conjunction with a powerful Protean Charm to link with it's target. So maybe I have to link target with my blood?" Harry muttered under his breath.

Harry absentmindedly cut another slice into his heavily scarred arm, and flicked the blood at the target, which was an old toy of Dudley's.

"Come on you little fucker, _Proteus Consensus" _Harry said.

The Play-Doh glowed a bloody red, and the toy did as well. Harry began mushing his hands into the Play-Doh, but it sprung back into place, healing itself to be in the exact shape of the toy. Harry kicked the toy, and the Play-Doh developed a dent.

"MORGANA TAKE YOU, BLOODY FUCKING AMERICAN GOO! CURSE YOU!" Screamed Harry, moderately enraged by the uncooperative putty.

Harry took a few minutes to calm down, glaring spitefully at the cheerful red ladybug toy that the putty had turned into.

_"Finite Incantatum. Proteus Consensus."_

The Play-Doh glowed again, and Harry reached out and grabbed it. To his delight, finger-marks began appearing in the toy. Harry grasped the Play-Doh, and slowly pulled it apart. The Ladybug toy began ripping itself apart, coming undone at the stitches. Harry pointed his wand at the Play-Doh.

_"Incendio" _Harry said quietly.

The Play-Doh caught on fire, but didn't seem to burn. Instead, it began melting as the ladybug caught on fire and started burning to a crisp. Harry waved his wand, and they were both extinguished.

"Hmm. Lets try the house. _Religo!" _Said Harry. The Play-Doh glowed, and morphed into an exact replica of Harry's house.

"Lets try transfiguration. _Acuo!" _Harry said. Nearby, the floorboards buckled and rose up, forming ominous wooden stakes, an action that mirrored the Play-Doh house.

"Huh. Well. Ultimate VooDoo doll, with Sympathetic Blood Magic. I can now boast to Bathory about it. Not that I actually use weapons like that. Hey Castor, come put this in the Weapons Cabinet!" Yelled Harry.

Castor appeared with a gentle pop, and took the Play-Doh to be stored where Harry kept his powerful weapons that he didn't use.

"Yes Master. Also, Evan Rosier would like to remind you that Grindelwald is coming over today." The Wight said.

"Oh, yeah, I had almost forgotten! Blimey, that's embarrassing!" Harry said.

Harry went upstairs to the living room, just in time to hear Grindelwald pop in. The potions regimen had obviously been helpful, as now, he looked dangerous, instead of a frail skeleton. His face was still drawn, but there was some muscle on his arms and legs now and his hair grew out, almost to shoulder length, still an ugly yellow.

"Young 'arry! It is good to be seeing you. Should ve start right avay?" He asked.

"Sure, may as well. No point in waiting I suppose." Harry said.

They headed out back, where Grindelwald tossed up several privacy charms and wards against magic detection.

"Now, I am not your friend here. I am not your ally. I am your TEACHER! And vhether I must cause pain or not, I VILL TEACH YOU! Be prepared, young vizard." Grindelwald said.

With that out of the way, he let loose with a steady stream of spells, most of them Dark, and semi-fatal. Harry tossed up a shield to get them, but a bone-breaker and a slicing charm got through and hit Harry.

"You must do better zan zat, to beat me Potter! I am a Dark Lord, training you to fight another Dark Lord! I vill not go easy on you! You say zat you are a Blood Mage? VELL PROVE IT!" Grindelwald cackled insanely.

Harry ran haphazardly around the yard, dodging and blocking most of the spells. Grindelwald was obviously not holding back. Might as well use a couple spells from the M.A.D. book, to retaliate.

_"GRAVITANS IMPULSUS!"_ Harry yelled angrily.

An oscillating beam of silvery magic blasted out of Harry's wand to impact the ground around Grindelwald. The ground began warping and swirling, as it was subjected to a gravity well compressed into a point. Grindelwalds streams of constant spellfire began getting sucked into the well. With a grimace on his face, Grindelwald shot a electric-blue spell into the well, and sent a Banisher at it straight afterwards. The blue spell destoryed ths gravity well, causing it to implode, and the banisher right after sent the dirt and debris caught up in it at Harry.

Harry managed to dodge it and threw a few Stunners at Grindelwald before tossing a Shattering Curse at him. Grindelwald retaliated with a distinctive bright-green jet of light.

"YOU FUCKER THAT WAS THE KILLING CURSE" Harry yelled angrily over the spellfire.

"VELL MAYBE YOU NEED TO BE DODGING MORE, SCHWACHKOPF! VOLDEMORT VILL NOT BE GOING EASY ON YOU!" Grindelwald yelled back.

_"Interminatis Frigus, et Tenebras, et Nehilitatas" _Harry cast.

The now familiar cloud of black fog billowed out at Grindelwald, freezing the blades of grass it traveled through, which then shattered due to the extreme temperature change. Grindelwald's eyes narrowed, recognizing the spell, or at least the general meaning of the casting words. He raised his wand.

_"Ignis Fax Ardor Flamma"_

_"Lumen Lychinus Candor Fulgor"_

_"Incendium Incaendium Combustio Flagrantia"_

_"ARDEO FERVEO TORREO EXTERMINO"_

_**"INARDESCO INFERNUS!"**_

A sooty black and red flame spewed from Grindelwalds wand, licking at the ground as it began to burn into an exponentially growing inferno. The flames coalesced and formed a massive demonic dragon, which seemed almost sentient. Grindelwald had summoned Fiendfyre.

The massive dragon roared, and the shockwave burned the black mist, the heat dissipating it. It then fixed a greedy eye on Harry. If magical spells shaped like dragons could grin, this one would have. Frantically, Harry searched his memory. There weren't many ways for a person to extinguish Fiendfyre cast by another. Burning and overwhelming it with his own Fiendfyre was out of question. He didn't want his inexperience to get him killed. Turning the yard into a vacuum could potentially magically exhaust him, as well as create an explosion. The only really viable spell that Harry knew, he had never cast. Eh, fuck it.

_"KRYO VITA!"_ Harry yelled, a mix between Greek and Latin.

A blue mist began emerging from Harry's wand. It coalesced into the frozen equivalent to Fiendfyre. It began forming into hard angles, into a sculpture made of ice. The mist finished creating the ice, and a black mist began flowing through the scuplture like life-blood, like its soul. The air on Harry's side of the field dropped in temperature, until the flowers began to freeze over in the sub-zero climate.

The sculpture began to crack, and move, a creature of living ice. It resembled a massive lion, except that Harry knew it was the form of a creature far more dangerous. A manticore. The ice had formed needle-thin and needle-sharp ice crystals, in a deadly parady of lion fur. It also had perfectly rendered the tail, massive, and with the end of it filled with spikes which could be launched. Real manticores possessed a deadly poison in their tails. This one possessed the mists of Absolute Zero in each individual spike, and coating its claws.

It roared furiously at the Fiendfyre dragon, seeming to despise it's existance. Grindelwald merely raised an eyebrow. Harry grinned and flicked his wand, releasing the Manticore to try to destroy the Dragon.

The Manticore bounded forth, but then changed directions and sunk its claws into the house and climbing to the roof like some sort of mountain lion. From that vantage point, the tail of the Manticore curled back, almost like a snake waiting to strike. Then, it lashed forward, making a cracking noise as it flicked its tail like a whip, and sending a spike at the dragon.

The spike flew forward, and hit the dragon in the chest with deadly accuracy. The black mist froze the flames for a few seconds, and the dragon roared. With a continuous cracking noise like a glacier, a flurry of a dozen other darts flew forth and hit the dragon. The dragon kept shrinking and shrinking under the onslaught, occasionally breathing fire at the Manticore, until it finally cried out and dissolved.

A red flash of light flew forward and hit Harry while he was distracted by the elation.

"How do you say it in English? MORON!" Yelled Grindelwald at the stunned Harry.

* * *

"Ugh. What happened." Moaned Harry.

"The Chudley Cannons lost again." Answered a solemn Rosier.

"You grew over-confident and lost to Grindelwald. He then put a curse on you to inflict stinging hexes on you if you get too distracted. He then left." Said Castor in a deadpan voice. It was always deadpan as he was a emotionaless mindless corpse(#denial).

"Fuck you Rosier. Help me up." Harry commandded. They successfully manuvered Harry into a sitting position.

"Grindelwald also healed my wounds?" Harry asked.

"Only the life threatening ones. He said that he wanted to leave you a couple reminders." Rosier said flippently.

Harry glared at him.

"I still feel sore. Go away, I am going to sleep." Harry said.

As he said that, three pops were heard. Rosier and Castor popped out, but some strange creature popped in. It was ugly, and looked like a deformed toddler with giant eyes and bat ears.

"Dobby has come here to warn the Great Mr. Harry Potter Sir, of the evil danger that shall be released at Hogwarts!" The wierd thing said.

Wait. Harry actually remembered something that annoying Malfoy kid said. He always complained about some nutty house elf named Dobby. Could this be it?

"Dobby, do you belong to the Malfoys?" Asked Harry innocuously.

"Oh, Masters Family must not be spoken of!" Yelled Dobby. He ran and began beating his head against the floor.

This clinched it. The thing was a house-elf. And Harry wanted to experiement on it. Unfortunately for Harry, no one has ever completely documented the powers of house-elves. And thus, Harry never knew that Dobby was like all house elves, in that he was empathetic.

Dobby froze midsentence as he sensed the emotions change from curiousity, to sadistically murderous intent.

"Bugger" the elf said in his high-pitched voice. He snapped his fingers, and vanished into thin air.

"CASTOR, COME UP HERE AND TRACK DOWN AND KILL THAT HOUSE ELF! WE MUST MAINTAIN ANONYMITY" Harry yelled, irate.

"Yes Master." Castor bowed and vanished.

Harry began furiously spewing curse words, American curse words when he repeating some.

* * *

Dobby reappeared into a dark alley someone along Knockturne, mind churning frantically. Suddenly, with a crack, Castor was there, having used his Wight powers to track magical signature. Dobby cracked behind Castor, while turning himself invisible, and blasted Castor in the back.

Another thing about Elf Magic, is that it is intent based. And most often used to fix things. However, you have to know how things break, to fix them.

Dobby sent a wave of rippling Elf Magic through the streets, shattering cobblestones, and sending the shards flying towards Castor. However, Castor trudged forward, and thickened the air around Dobby, to prevent Apparation. He then grabbed Dobby by the throat, sensing him with his magic, and began draining him, of life, magic, and soul. Dobby shrieked as his skin turned grey, and wrinkly. Dobby began to literally shrivel up until he was naught but bones. Castor waved his hand, and set the body alight with an unholy grey flame, that left greasy ashes on the road.

Castor popped out, and Knockturne Alley was silent again.

* * *

**AN-YAY DOBBY IS DEAD! Admittedly, he is a likable charactor, but his accent makes me homicidal. RIP Dobby. Jerry tells me that the reviewers will not like this, but at least he put up a good fight. Fight/training ****scene was vaguely inspired from Vindico Atrum. Go read. And the Play-Doh was because I like Play-Doh and think that sympathetic magic is overlooked too often. Alas, it has little place in this story. Shoutout to RebeliousOne and BalancedHex1232. Y U NO WRITE LONG REVIEWS NO MORE PEOPLE! :====( ME SO SAID. Me is alzo using a parady site to figure out how to write ze 'erman accent zat ze Dark Lord Grindelvald haz. No hate me pls. So anyway, hope you are happy with this, and second year will be coming soon.**

**-Lucife**


	20. Chapter 20

_Imagination is more important than Knowledge_

_-Albert Einstein_

**Chapter 20-Interlude with Cthulhu**

It goes without saying, that the Lovegoods were an odd family. Of course, this made them the target of ridicule and everyone underestimated them. However, there was a familial reason for their 'madness'. It was genetic.

However, it was not at all like the madness of other families. The Black Family Madness was caused by excessive inbreeding a couple centuries ago, and thus inspired the present-day mentality of marrying into every single family. Not many would know this, but the Black Family was larger than the Weasleys. They were even married to the Weasleys.

No, the Lovegood Family oddities and traditional so-called 'unhinged-ness', were actually caused by a rather odd occurence. Their Family Magicks. It is a fact that the higher the amount of magical power, the more convoluted and circular the persons reasoning. Which makes the Council redundent, as Xenophilius Lovegood wrote in his article to the Quibbler. He was naturally ignored.

However, the Lovegood Line, has in the past had power wizards and witches marry into the line. However, frequently, odd and specialized magic has detrimental side effects on a person, and having the many diluted gifts of specialized magics as well as their mental side-effects has the effect of crafting the traditional Lovegood psyche. And the Family Magicks themselves are the undiluted version of these condensed gifts.

Due to the paternal start of the Lovegood line, as well as some rather odd and downright ridiculous circumstances around it, the Lovegood Line was blessed (or cursed) with their magics never fading. The obvious problem with that, is that while most Family Magicks eventually condense into an affinity, like the Blacks with Black Magic, the Lovegoods could not stabilize and instead would forever stay a twisted conglomeration of downright incompatible magicks.

The beginning of the Lovegood Line, involved rather mad occurences. An insane self-taught Muggleborn writor, by the name of H. P. Lovecraft, accidentally created a time-space continuam paradox, in which he found a Tine-Turner while digging out weeds in his backyard. He triggerred it, which sent him back in time nearly 500 years, and then subsequently dropped it midflight. The Time-Turner dropped into the dirt and was slowly covered by dirt for five centuries, before eventually being refound by Lovecraft and fixed uo then activated, thus triggering the cycle again.

Due to Lovecraft dropping the Time-Turner, he was flung into the Void between dimensions, until he was rescued a couple weeks later by a decidedly quirky Muggleborn British Unspeakable named Ann Goodman, who was working in Dimensional Magick. The two began dating and eventually got married, merging their names into Lovegood. A decade after the marriage, they discovered a dimension that was created by the imagination of H.P. Lovegood, and found that all the inhabitants pledged their alliegiance to the Lovegood Line. Then, that same line was Blessed (or Cursed) by Cthulhu, and that was the start.

Further down the line, other married in, such as Seers, Illusionists, Beast Masters, and Spellcrafters. Some obssessed over the quest of the Deathly Hallows, and eventually accidentally started the Legend of the Illuminati(It only looks like an eye, damnit). Most others joined the Department of Mysteries, who always drooled over having Lovegood Unspeakables. Then, the neice of an eccentric immortal wandmaker, Selene Ollivander, married the currant Lord Lovegood, one Xenophilius Lovegood. And they had a single child, Luna Lovegood. Who had access to the Dimensional Magicks, Illusions, and minor Seer gifts of her ancestors. Go figure.

* * *

"Daddy, I think the Wrackspurts are after me again!" Cried Luna, who was getting ready for her first year at Hogwarts.

"Do you have your special earrings, dear?" Xeno shouted up at her.

"Yes Daddy!" Luna yelled back to the first level.

Xeno paused the printing press, and positively bounded up the stairs.

As he reached her room, he said, "Well, we may need to redo some charms on them, don't you think?"

"Ok Daddy. Can we play with the eldritch abomination afterwards?" Luna asked.

"Of course pumpkin! After all, the Department of Mysteries said they could only loan it out to us for so long, before they would be required to destroy it. And Luna, I still say you imagined that Unspeakable crying and muttering 'kill it with fire' while they transfered it." Xeno said.

"Darn it. Can you do the spells though?" Luna asked innocently.

"Oh my, how could I have forgotten? _Impello Idolo Profanum!"_

A sparkling rainbow jet of light soared from the tip of Xeno's wand, and hit the earrings. Sparkles, rainbows, and the screams of the unholy radiated from the innocent-looking kumquats that dangled from Luna's ears.

"There you go sweetling!" Xeno smiled. "Now, lets go feed Larry." He literally jumped out the window, which automatically applied an old gravity-reduction charm. He floated down to the ground, and Luna jumped after him. They both landed in the garden, which were filled with the Lovegood's attempt at terraforming to match the Lovegood dimension. As such, the plants were jet black and semi-sentient, with the little irrigation system filled with human blood.

Xeno pushed past a sulky, thorny plant that resembled a briar bush, an Luna smacked the tar-black vine that was tugging at her pants. The one time that Dumbledore sent Pomona Sprout to inform Xeno's father, of the completion of the payment for Luna's education, Sprout ran out screaming about the unholy plants that were not of this Earth, and vowed never to come back.

Xeno and Luna calmly walked through the plants that made the Whomping Willow envious, and opened the door to the cellar.

"LAARRRYY! DINNERTIME!" Luna yelled down. A cacophony of screeching, screaming, hissing and clicking greeted her.

"You did bring his dinner, didn't you?" Luna asked Xeno.

"Of course" Xeno said, reaching into his space-expanded pockets to withdraw a bucket of organs and raw flesh floating in blood. "And I thought we agreed that it was a genderless abomination?"

"No, it's definitely a male. I checked while seeing if it emitted milk, thus proving it a mammel. Unfortunately, it did not seem to, not matter how hard I tugged, so we cannot conclusively say it is a mammel." Luna said.

"No more experimenting with monsters without supervision!" Xeno said, frowning.

He hefted the bucket, and sloshed into the cellar. A horrific squelching and sucking noise began emanating from it, and several multi-jointed black limbs, resembling mutated spider legs flailed out, and an excited chittering and clicking filled the air. Luna tossed a red rubber ball down to the god-forsaken creature, and it threw it back, making Luna smile.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was writing in her diary. It was a shabby black leather diary, with gold lettering denoting T. M. Riddle. Ginny had found the diary nestled in her school book, in her cauldron at Florish and Blotts.

They had all been getting books together, and Mrs. Weasley was in the line for the Gilderoy Lockhart book signing, when Draco Malfoy had shown up. Like usual, he insulted and made fun of Ron and the Weasley Family in general.

Then, Lucius Malfoy, and her Father had come to the scene. They began making barely veiled insults, barbs, and threats, before devolving into a scuffle in which several black eyes, split lips, and other injuries were traded. Eventually, Hagrid came in and broke it up but Ginny was still angry at the Malfoys.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today Malfoy came and started a fight again. My Dad got hurt a bit and I am worried about him. _

Ginny paused to think of something else to write. But as she did that, she watched in amazement as the ink disappeared, as if sucked into the pages. Then suddenly, ink blossomed on the page like blood spatters on the ground, and like bubbles rising to the surface, words floated up and wrote themselves on the page.

_**Hello there. I see that you have found my old diary. I created this spell so that I could have someone to talk to about my issues and problems. This spell was modeled off my personality, so you can call me by my name. Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle.**_

As Ginny began to write back out of curiosity, she never noticed the black tentacles of magic floating out from the book. To control the mind, ensnare the senses, and sink its barbed hooks into the nearest living thing. Ginny.

* * *

"Harry Potter is smart. He knows what he is doing."

Hermione Granger took a deep breath. She was currently contemplating Dark Magic.

"If being evil is a good thing for the evil person, then we should embrace that. Embrace every part of ourselves. Right?" She muttered to herself.

Hermione wasn't even sure if she was trying trying to convince herself to preform Dark Magic, or to not. But ready or not, Hermione Granger was ready to try a new piece of magic.

_"Crucio!" _she cast at the hobo. She had been walking earlier, and the disgusting man had tried to grab her, before she kicked him in the balls. One of the things that Hermione had figured out early in the summer, is that the Ministry only tracked Wanded Magic. But magic could be channeled through nearly anything. Mostly living things. Metal, was ironically a magical insulator, whilst being an electrical conducter. But Hermione, had quickly figured out from some of Harry's hints last year that the best foci, were made from magical creatures. Hermione, technically counted as a magical creature, so when she dipped a branch of oak into her blood, it responded magically, while still not being a real wand.

The old hobo began writhing in pain. Hermione was slightly horrified, but was also experiencing an odd vindicative elation at her success. She could feel it. The magical connection between them, was two-way. It felt as if she herself were somehow raising invisible ethereal daggers, and personally plunging them into his flesh, and burning and flaying him at the same time.

All of a sudden, it stopped. The man stopped writhing, and the magical connection snapped. Hermione leaned closer to investigate what caused it to stop, and then drew back when she saw that the hobo was bleeding from the eyes, ears and nose. The eyes in particular were horrifying, as they were rolled up in the mans head, exposing only the whites of his eyes with the bloody red puddles on it.

"Why did he die? I was under the impression that the Cruciatus didn't kill." She muttered to herself. She then glanced at her watch, and saw that she had the hobo under for a whole hour. Oh.

She then waved her 'wand', and the body caught fire. It crackled and began burning to ash.

* * *

"No, I swear I'm not making an undead army." Harry protested.

(It is a sad thing, realizing that Harry is the most well adjusted person in this interlude)

"Really?" Asked a skeptical Grindelwald.

"Yes. I was just looting the bodies or something. Not stealing the bodies themselves." Harry protested.

Harry twitched his finger, and Castor dragged away the body while Grindelwald's back was turned.

"I do not mind you making an army, but I object to you making it vithout supervision." Grindelwald said sternly.

Harry sighed. He twitched his finger to get Grindelwald to follow him, and walked into the Dursleys house.

Grindelwald followed him, and they descended to the basement lab. They then walked to a hole in the wall, and entered a crude dirt tunnel. They went down about 100 feet, and then finally emerged in a gigantic dirt room, filled with dead bodies.

"How on earth did you accomplish this?" Asked an astonished Grindelwald.

"That has to do with the nature of magical space expansion. Basically, I had Castor begin digging outward and downward until he had cleared a small room. Then, I cast a Space-Retraction Charm to compress the dirt. Then when Castor dug and I released the spell, a huge space had been cleared away. Then I tied the space to my Play-Doh of Doom, and created the first Play-Doh wardstone. It is surprisingly effective. I can change the room to have different features. Nothing complicated, but if I wanted a dirt alter I can have that easily."

Grindelwald nodded, clearly impressed.

"Ironically, this space is right above an old cemetary that was built over. I am literally mining for more miners." Harry laughed. "I am making the dead bodies into Inferi and Zombies, as my shock troops and cannon fodder. However, I have been having Pollux kidnap hobos from London. At night, she looks like a little girl walking down a dark alley, so she is perfect bait for people who won't be missed. Then I kill them, and infuse vials of my blood with their soul, and paint runes of strengthening and other enhancements on them.",

" So, 'ow many do you 'ave?" Grindelwald asked.

"I am around 100 cannon fodder Inferi, and about 20 Elite Undead. I have been having them automate a lot of it. Throwing the bodies into ritual circles of blood, and I have adapted most of them so that Castor can activate them. They have been churning out a couple a day, and the troops have been expanding this place."

Grindelwald nodded, and conjured up some beach chairs. There, Harry and Grindelwald simply sat back and watched the army being slowly built.

* * *

**AN-Yes, I know I got distracted and haven't updated for a little while. I blame Rorschach's Blot. The stories are just too damn good. So shoutout to Hammer N Nail for an awesome review which gave cool suggestions. Yes I will be working on putting it in. Also to ShoredKafka, whose review dragged me out to come and update. So, the Lovegood family is explained. If I do future fics, I will probably stick with that explaination because it makes so much sense. Compared to a sane luna who hides her intelligence due to child abuse. Like, who would believe that. Or even Seer Luna. Not enough canon support for it. Also, everyone likes dark hermione and some undead army jazz, so i filled both of those cravings. So yeah. Review pls, it makes me happy.**

**-Lucifer**

**P.S. Food for thought-There is a disease which is both sexually transmitted and inheritable, which is full of suffering and makes you secseptible to disease, and is always fatal. Its called life. Make of that what you wish.**


	21. Chapter 21

_God and the Devil are an effort after specialization and the division of labor._

_-Samuel Butler_

**Chapter 21-Mock Hard Lockhart (has Dark Arts)**

"ROSIER!" Harry yelled, with an irate tone of voice.

Evan popped in with an audible crack.

"Yes?" He said glibly.

"What the fucking hell did you do? I have been getting reports from several of my Elite, who I have assigned to follow high-profile people, and I want to know what the hell you put in that letter to scare Alastor 'Madeye' Moody into becoming a hermit." Harry said.

Rosier just kept grinning. Harry narrowed his eyes. Closer. Closer. Finally, Rosier cracked.

"Alright, I sent him a moving photo of myself holding today's newspaper. I have maimed him a bit in the past, and I am not surprised that he is having a meltdown. I was in the Inner Circle, as well as a Master Duelist." He said.

Harry squinted at him, as though to determine the truth. Finally, he looked away, and left the room.

"Whatever. Go work with Grindelwald on the Army. I need to go to Hogwarts. I am having Castor drop me off at the train station. And stop getting into trouble, damnit." Harry said grumpily.

"Castor!" Harry yelled.

The pale-skinned undead popped in, grabbed Harry's arm, and popped them both to the train station behind Platform 9 &amp; 3/4. Once again, Harry felt that rushing, G-Force acceleration, as if he was in hyperdrive, that he always felt with his Wights. They dropped out of 'lightspeed' with a gentle pop in a secluded corner of the platform.

"My stuff is already at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Yes Master." Castor said, deadpan.

"Good. Go home and help with making the Army. And keep Grindelwald out of trouble. He may be ancient, but the man has the mind of a child. That goes for Rosier as well." Harry instructed.

Castor nodded, and 'jumped' out.

Harry began walking and making his way to the giant red train, when all of a sudden, he felt a tingling. In his Occlumency Maze, a pervasive black stain that Harry had last seen when getting the Sorcerer's Stone, had broken free, and was reacting to something on the Platform.

Harry dug through his back, and summoned his trusty Telescope. He put ut up to his eyes, and began scanning in both Magic mode and Soul mode. He saw various wands, articles, and the occasional dark object. This wasn't interesting. He was looking for something that stood out. Then, he saw a malignant aura of darkness, surrounding one of the Weasleys, a parasitic attachment to a object obviously made with Black Magick. It also appeared to have a fragment of soul in it. How curious. He WOULD, steal that later. At a more convenient date anyway.

Harry shrugged, and climbed up onto the train. From there, Harry walked down to the end of the train, and took a random compartment before sticking some powerful wards to the compartment door, right out of his trusty journel.

Harry then sat back, just reading through the trip. Around a quater of the way, the compartment door opened, to admit the only person Harry was willing to see.

Hermione Granger walked into the compartment, and sat down, staring at Harry. Harry jotted down a note in his Journel, and then closed them to pay attention to Hermione.

"Hello, Hermione." Harry said.

"I presume this place has been warded?" Hermione asked.

"Indeed"

"Well, I decided to go through several Dark-Arts books over the summer. Also, an old hobo was being inappropriate, and it was making me uncomfortable. So I used the Cruciatus on him until he died. Took about an hour."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"What were you using as your focus?" He asked.

"A freshly cut stick, with my blood covering it."

"That would explain it."

"What?"

"Well, the Cruciatus is an Unforgivable Curse. It is no simple thing to toss it around and kill people with it. Furthurmore, it wouldn't take an hour to cast. I also doubt that you are already sadistic enough to cast a proper Cruciatus." Harry explained. "The thing is, the incantation 'Crucio' just means pain and torture. It doesn't specify the quantity. I imagine that you managed a fairly powerful pain curse, and then your own power was magnified by the inadvertent Blood Magick you did so you could do it for an hour."

"Fascinating. I hadn't known that. Also, I haven't felt that bad about using those spells ever since I cast some." She replied.

"Ah yes. Were you aware that magic is sentient?"

Hermione shook her head mutely.

"Well, it is, and the Dark Arts can and will manipulate your emotions to use it more. That's why a lot of the Dark Arts require emotion. It's so it can manipulate you more easily. The Dark Arts WANT to be used. They will manipulate the emotions their castors give them, and even induce Dark Arts Addiction. It is a parasitic relationship at that point. However, people who completely meld with the Dark Arts, have a symbiotic relationship. Take the famous war criminal Bellatrix Lestrange. She was completely melded with the Cruciatus Curse, to the point where she did not require the emotional concentration, nor continous power to throw Crucios around like candy. She also had an excessive pain tolerance, and only very powerful people could put her under a Cruciatus that she would be affected by. Similarly, Lord Voldemort is melded with the Killing Curse. He can throw AKs all day without breaking a sweat, because the emotional and power cost is so diminished for him. Since you felt justified in casting the Cruciatus, it is able to warp your moral compass so that the next time you cast, it will be easier and you will not care as much. Rather interesting topic." Harry lectured.

"Are you melded with any magic?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. Blood Magic. Instead of warping my magical core, or making me dependent on it, my magic is actually increased when I use it, rather than messed up like most people. Here, I have a rather fascinating book on it." Harry said.

He summoned the book out of his bag, and handed it to Hermione.

They sat and read for the rest of the train trip.

* * *

Harry was annoyed. Very annoyed. This was only logical, as Gilderoy Lockhart was annoying. Very annoying.

"Let's see what you make of them!" Lockhart said enthusiastically.

He then opened the cage, full of Cornish Pixies. They flew out, blue little critters with mischevious black eyes and vaguely humanoid bodies. They began making havoc, obviously much faster and stronger than they appeared, with a little bit of magic at their disposal.

A trio of the creatures flew over to attack Harry.

"If you even think of it, I WILL destroy you." Harry whispered.

His wand was subtly crackling with black lightning, and Harry was using the Dementor Soul-Magick to broadcast his emotions, waves of killing intent across the Pixies mind frequency. The Pixies could feel it, and flew off away from him, screaming in high-pitched terror. Not that anyone could tell the difference.

Intent on getting one for experimental purposes, Harry set a jet of shimmering clear air in the corner, instantly incinerating the pixie, and summoned the bones which had been left over. Harry cast a small Reparo on the bones, and the bones filled out again and shook off the ash. Then just to be spiteful Harry sent another jet at a photograph of Lockhart. The picture incinerated into ashes, and Harry felt a little better.

Lockhart stumbled out of the room, and told Harry to go clean up. The rest of the students made a break for it and left Harry alone.

Harry leveled his glaring gaze at the pixies. They froze, confronted by a predator.

"You will get in the cage. Or I will massacre you." He said quietly.

The pixies looked a bit unsure.

"NOW!" He yelled.

They quickly flew to the cage and locked themselves in, quavering in fright. Harry peered down at them through the bars of the cage.

"Thats what I thought."

"Pollux" Harry said.

With a pop, the Wight appeared in the castle, wearing her usual black dress.

"Do me a favor and clean this up. Don't let anyone know about you." Harry instructed.

* * *

"I need revenge. You are going to help me. People have called me a cruel, sadistic basterd. Lets live up to that. Now, I overheard some gossip about Su Li and her interest in certain magazines. Fetch the one that she keeps hidden under her bed. Then meet me in the Defense Classroom. Understand Scout?" Harry said.

The reanimated bones of the little pixie nodded vigurously, and then snapped a salute. It flew off in the direction of the girls dorms, with Harry's runes etched on the bones allowing it flight.

Harry put on the Cloak, and disappeared from all detection. He picked up the book that had inspired him, and made his way down to the Defense Classroom.

"Notably Different Mediums of Magic" was the name of the book. Harry had been skimming it before he came across the special animation spell that was used on the school portraits. It basically embued the subject of the painting with a basic sentience, and spells could then be added on. This was perfect for Harry's plot.

Scout, the little undead pixie, came fluttering toward Harry carrying the magazine that Su Li had smuggled in. Scout opened it, and pointed at page 69. Harry grinned.

"Excellent work" Harry said, applying a Sticking Charm to the magazine and putting it on the wall. "Lets see, _Anima Fabrica!"_

As Harry twirled his wand, the tentacle monster began moving slowly on the page, coming to life. What most people don't know, is that portraits and pictures, once having gained sentience, can feel pain. But, they can't die.

_"Concupisco, Ira, Engorgio!" _Harry chanted.

The tentacle monster, now humongous, crawled its way into the next portrait. A horny, angry tentacle monster. The Lockharts in the excessive pictures saw the monster, and all ran into another portrait, where they were caught by the abomination. The monster ripped off their limbs and dismembered them so they couldn't escape, then began to have it's way with them. There was much screaming. And those tentacles were really fucking big. Harry was smiling.

* * *

"THOSE LITTLE MONSTERS!" yelled Lockhart.

He had just invited every teacher to his classroom for a staff meeting before breakfast. When the teachers heard the loud screaming, lewd noises, and excessive curse words, they had all come in at full sprint to his room. Only to see a gigantic tentacle monster raping the amputated bodies of the Lockhart photographs. The real Lockhart was near speechless with rage.

"I WANT WHOEVER DID THIS EXPELLED!" he screamed, hysterically.

"This seems to be a sort of prank, albeit in very poor taste." Said a disapproving McGonagall. "Perhaps we should destroy these. It was recently proven in Transfiguration Weekly that Magical Photos and Paintings can in fact feel pain."

"They can feel this?" Lockhart whispered weakly, face turning pale.

Filch began cackling in mirth. Everyone ignored him, though Snape had a small smirk on his face.

"Perhaps, Gilderoy, you simply annoyed someone. Is that too hard to comprehend?" Said Snape in his slow drawl. "We must be going to breakfast. We will just leave you here to dispose of these...things."

The teachers left the room and Lockhart was left listening to his own screams as his image was repeatedly violated. Lockhart whimpered, then steeled his heart, and began casting.

* * *

**AN:Had to make up for the absence of the flying car somehow. More random magic explaination, and Lockhart gets pranked. Evilly. And Harry has a new undead toy. Yay! Diary and petrefications come next chapter. And yes, there is a plot in this story. Somewhere. Review pls, it makes me happy. Shoutout to Hammer N Nail and Kairan1979 for teh reviews. I have never written romance, or even really experienced it so I am very leery of putting a pairing in here. Like seriously. Give me your thoughts on that ok? Yes Harry comes across as a cruel evil person in this chapter, but whatever. I thoight it was funny. And there are some charactors in HP that just fucking deserve it. Review pls!**

**-Lucifer**


	22. Chapter 22

_Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them._

_-William Shakespeare_

**Chapter 22-The Riddle of the Diary**

* * *

The school was terrified. It had been several weeks since the incident at Halloween, and two more people had been petrified.

* * *

_Harry was walking back from the Halloween Feast, feeling full with sweets. He was walking alongside several of his Housemates, reluctantly chatting with them about academics and Magical Theory. They were walking down the Second Floor hallways, when all of a sudden, they heard a shrill scream. Harry looked at Goldstein, whom he was speaking with, and they both took off toward it, Harry a bit reluctantly._

_They came to a crowd of students, who were clogging up the intersection by the girls bathrooms. On the wall, words were written._

_"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware..." _

_Harry could tell without even looking at it, that the writing was in blood. He could feel the unique magical signature of Blood Magic, and deduced that there was some sort of anti-erase curse sunk into it. Filch would have a hard time cleaning it off. _

_Speaking of Filch, there was a stiff figure hanging from a wall sconce, seemingly smoking and blackened, as well as hard as stone. It was Mrs. Norris of all creatures. Harry was very confused at this, as he was certain that he had killed the damn cat last year by electrocuting the fiend and tossing it off the staircase from the third floor._

_Uh oh. A head of platinum blond hair bobbed through the crowd, shoving people. It was that arrogant git Malfoy. And heading toward Harry. Hell no._

**"Riddikulous" **_Harry murmured under his breathe, his tattoos burning black with the magic. A smoky curl of magic that went unnoticed flew up to Harry's eyes, and turned them a jet black, covering even the whites of his eyes. _

_When Malfoy went to push Harry aside, Harry turned his head and glared demonically at Malfoy. The little ponce sucked in his breathe about to scream, but when he blinked, Harry dispelled the illusion._

_Malfoy choked off his shriek, and walked far around Harry, wide-eyed in fright. But by the time he got to the front of the crowd, he had regained his confidence._

_"Enemies of the Heir beware! You'll be next Mudboods!" He said sneering._

_Granger who was at the other side of the intersection, glared dangerously at Malfoy. Harry could feel the anger rolling off her, and he knew better than most about the kind of magic she was researching._

_Far away, like an echo, Harry could hear Parseltounge, no words, just a demonic hissing laughter._

* * *

Harry had noticed a correlation. Every time there was an attack, Harry could hear a hissing voice from the walls, screaming about blood and death and all that fun stuff. Some sort of snake was petrifying students.

And Lockhart. Damn the man. The moronic poncy git had seemingly recovered from the trauma of seeing himself raped and eviserated multiple times. And now, he had come up with the plan to form a Dueling Club. Harry was going of course, as he didn't want to raise suspicion. He also really wanted to hurt someone.

"Can you all see me? Can you all, hear me?" Said Gilderoy Lockhart. The man took off his horrid lavender cape, and threw it to the students.

He was dressed in a flamboyant 'dueling' outfit, complete with a smoky grey vest and frilly shirt. He began strutting up and down the stage, looking for all the world like a odd species of peacock.

"The Headmaster has allowed me to form a little Dueling Club, to train you all up in case your life is threatened. My colleague, Professor Snape, has graciously agreed to assist me in this club. But no worries. You will still have your Potions Instructor when I am done with him." Lockhart laughed winking at the students. Many of the girls sighed and swooned, and Harry could see Hermione in the crowd looking disgusted.

Harry began giggling to himself at the idea of Lockhart dueling Snape. He had done his homework and made profiles of all the adults with direct power over him, and he was immensely amused that Lockhart thought he could best a lieutenant of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Who secretly held Mastery in the subjects of Dart Arts and Spell Creation.

Snape merely sneered at Lockhart, and held himself stiffly. Lockhart stepped to his end of the platform which had been erected, and took a flamboyant overly dramatic dueling stance. Snape went to his end of the platform, and took a dueling stance similar to a fencer, holding himself stiff with barely concealed loathing.

Lockhart signaled a start to the duel, and Snape walked forward dramatically, black robes billowing. He whipped his wand forward, and in his acerbic baritone voice, he said _"EXPELLIARMUS!", _dragging out the ex sound and putting heavy emphasis on the first part. Pronoucing spells differently is liable to change the effects.

That is why, Snape, secretly a Master Spell Creationist, was able to modify the disarming charm to physically throw Lockhart across the room, flipping upside-down until he landed with a crunch against the wall. Harry started clapping, a maniacal grin on his face.

"An excellent demonstration by Professor Snape, showing the Disarming Charm." Lockhart said as he staggered to his feet. "It was only too obvious what you were about to do." He said, face looking a bit pale.

Snape was having none of that. "Perhaps, Gilderoy, it would be better if you were to show them how to stop unfriendly spells." He said in a sneering drawl."

Loclhart's smile faltered a bit, and he ordered the students to pair up and practice casting. Harry and Hermione found each other in the crowd and took turns casting Stinging Hexes at each other, and 'missing'. Several of the other students were hit. After a while, Snape took charge, and stopped the casting, which had devolved into a free-for-all curse session.

Lockhart again walked onto the stage and waved for attention. How about we have a little demonstration duel with the students. Hmm, lets have Potter, and..."

"Actually Professor Lockhart, I would like to duel you! You are such a powerful wizard, that I would like to duel with you specifically." Harry said, voice dripping with false sincerity.

Lockhart, the moron that he was, bought it. "Well then lets duel, come on up here." He said, beaming at Harry. He was so going down.

Harry walked up to the stage and took his position, as Lockhart did the same. Harry brandished his wand seemingly incompetently, and smiled at Lockhart winningly. The duel started, and Harry flicked his wand, whispering _"Riddikulus Solitarius!". _Harry's illusion began to form, only able to be experienced by Lockhart. Only visible and tangible to Lockhart. The tentacle monster.

Lockhart began screaming and backpedaled two steps before tripping and falling on the floor. He then began screaming as if in extreme agony before falling silent. Of course Lockhart could still 'feel' the monster, but Harry changed the illusion so that the intention to move his legs would only move his mental legs. Snape stomped toward Harry and grabbed him roughly.

"What the hell did you do to him Potter!" Snape demanded.

Just as Harry was starting to panick, a sudden brainwave came over him.

"I just used a spell from out of an old parenting book. It stings someone if they are guilty of something recent, and I may have put too much power into it." Said Harry in a fake panicked voice. "Even if it was over-powered to examine his whole life, I figured that since he is a hero, he can't have done anything bad.

While he was saying this, he cast a nonverbal spell to remove the last spell from his wand, then began to put away his wand, nonverbally casting the spell in question against his shirt sleeve when Snape couldn't see it.

"Take that back out Potter, I want to examine it." Snape said. Harry meekly handed over his wand, and Snape cast, _"Priori Incantatum!". _The ghostly image of a small child, and a set of scales floated out of Harry's wand. Snape's lip curled, and he turned to face Lockhart. Harry dispelled the illusion and let Lockhart pass out for real.

"We will make SURE, to find any evidence of wrongdoing that Lockhart may be guilty of." He said eventually.

Harry just began laughing on the inside.

* * *

It was several weeks since Lockhart had been tried and convicted of Improper Use of Memory Charms, as well as fraud, and Harry had obtained the book. It was the self-same Dark Artifact that he had observed Ginerva Weasley with on the train platform. Hermione had given it to him after she said that she found it in the Second Floor Girls Lavatory, and she had sensed the Dark Magic on it.

It appeared to be nothing more than a shabby leather-bound diary, embossed with the gold lettering, "Tom Marvolo Riddle". This was the boy, who would become the Dark Lord, as Harry remembered from his talk with McGonagall in Diagon Alley. Curious, Harry lit a flame on his finger with some wandless magic, and held it close to the book. It didn't do anything, seeming to be very hard to destroy. Huh.

Harry opened it, and dipped one of his regular quills in a pot of ink.

_What are you? _Harry wrote. The ink slowly vanished as if they were absorbed, and Harrt leaned away. He was taking no chances with a diary. Given that Harry had a diary himself, he was perfectly aware of the potential danger of the things.

**My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. My diary keeps a memory of myself at 16, in its pages.**

Harry began leaning toward it, before snapping back as he detected the insidious soul magic that was already creeping into him, as well as several compulsions to write.

_Tell me everything I want to know without the Soul Magick. I will return in a week for this information. If you try to double-cross me, I will leave you hidden forever._

Harry smiled sadistically, pulled out his Blood Quill, and drew a series of runes on a piece of paper. He then drew a power draining circle on another piece of paper and placed the diary on it. Harry opened the diary to the first page and activated the power-draining circle. Wisps of black smoke came out of the diary and began powering both pieces of paper. Slowly, a drop of black ink formed on the paper. It then dripped onto the diary page. Again. And again. Every 30 seconds. Harry put the set up into a bubble, and then threw a tine field around it to speed up time expodentially. Every day, would be a year in the bubble.

"I hope you feel chatty Tom. I hear that Chinese Water Torture is a bitch. Wouldn't want to drive you insane. Would we?" Said Harry sadistically.

Harry began laughing maniacally.

* * *

**AN: I have had the idea of chinese water torture on tom for a while. You can't do it traditionally, as he is in a sensory deprivation state effectively, unabke to feel pain. But the ink torture, would be extremely effective, I woukd think. So yeah. Made Snape just a little cooler, and tentacke raped lockhart and got him arrested. And the plot slowly moved forward. Very slpwly. Anyway. Jerry tells me he wants more reviews. He is greedy like that. I have read the reviews, and there is a lot of them saying no pairing. Sounds good. I am forever-alone guy so I would suck at it anyway. Shoutout to Hammer N Nail as well as Thracer for awesome reviews. If only everyone could write a review like hammer. Anyway, the story of the day is The Last Enemy, by BelfastDocks. It js an amazing fanfic, about the Deathly Hallows, and is very well-written. Twice as long as my fic, with double the writing quality. You can find it in my necromancy community Blood, Bone, and Chaos Sown. However, it is very unknown, with reviews and favorites in the teens. So go check it out. Also, review. Clickity clickity click. Now.**

**-Lucifer**


	23. Chapter 23

_Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company._

_-Mark Twain_

**Chapter 23-This is why we do not let Hermione make the plan. Damnit.(ps, catch the all the references for shoutout)**

"Ok, so we know where the Chamber of Secrets is, how to open it, and how to kill whatever is inside, which we now know to be at least a Basilisk. I do not see why you are opposed to it." Hermione said bossily.

"Hermioneee! It goes against the code!" Harry whined, dragging her name out. The pair were in a secret study room in the Restricted Section of the Library, plotting to deal with the Basilisk.

"What ridiculous code are you talking about now. I perfectly understand that being criminally neglected by relatives may have had consequences, but that is no reason whatsoever for becoming totally unhinged." Hermione said, practically daring Harry to argue.

"The Evil Code. All evil people have a Code to live by. Though I would say that the Code is more like 'guidelines', than actual rules." Harry said. Hermione glared. Viciously. Harry hurried to explain his reasoning. "Really, its quite simple. Most evil people are slightly unhinged if not outright crazy. Also, one does not simply waltz into the Chamber of Secrets and kill the Basilisk with a bloody ROOSTER! That isn't at all evil, dramatic, or scary, and is generally considered the 'pansy' approach. I have been trying to break you of these habits, but those stubborn little tendencies keep popping up. Blast."

"Mm hm. Tell me Harry, who comes up with these little rules?" Hermione asked dangerously.

"Can'ttalkaboutitRule1!?" Harry rapidly spat out.

"Tell me!"

"Rule 2?" Harry said cheekily.

"Let me guess, you will keep making out rules like even up to Rule 34 or something, just to annoy me. Fine. Be that way. What is your plan, oh evil overlord master." Hermione said sullenly, subjected to the headache that came with Harry's particular brand of insanity.

Harry shrugged and began ennumerating his evil plot. "Well, obviously we need Luna Lovegood first. Don't look at me like I am crazy 'Mione, I always make it a point to track down the most dangerous people around. Now what Lovegood will do, is use her not-so-secret Family Magicks to summon an Eldritch Monstrosity from the deep darkness of the extra-dimensional Abyss. You know the kind that happens whenever someone goes back in time and changes something, considering the predestined nature of time. Breaking time and space simultaneously is a very severe crime, as it endangers the very existance of the universe with paradoxes. Thus, everyone who goes back in time to change something that they KNOW happened differently risk obliterating the Multiverse, and thus the cases of the mysterious time disappearances occurs, as the universe itself throws them into the Abyss, which is like the Alcatraz of the Multiverse. And full of tentacle rapists. Go figure."

"That plan is bloody stupid."

"Just let me finish. Since evil demonic abberations against the natural order and abominations are usually quite distracting, then I will have the opportunity to cast incredibly illegal Dark Magic on it, and then harvest potion ingredients to become rich. However, I need to remain at the school for a while, as this place is too damn fun to leave. So, I cannot risk letting it shut down by offing some prick and blaming the beast. And that, is how an evil plan is made." Harry finished dramatically.

"...I think you are just bored." Hermione said eventually.

"He has plenty of fun things to do in his life, especially his future. I predict that something rather hilarious will occur as a result of this plan." A dreamy voice drifted over them. Said dreamy voice went very well with the long blonde hair, and the protrubent knowing eyes of Luna Lovegood.

"There, Loony is on my side. That should be good enough for you." Hermione said.

"Oh no, I am fully for unrestrained chaos, mayhem, and danger. It should be fun."

"This plan sucks."

"Famous last words 'Mione."

* * *

The trio stood in the dank slimy Chamber, staring at the really ugly statue of Salazar Slytherin.

"I still say that you shouldn't have nicked those emeralds off the door." Hermione said crossly.

"They were shiny. Very shiny. My precious." Harry said.

"I believe that the Quibbler will next run an article on the love triangle between E.T. Gollum, and Kreacher." Luna said.

"Who is Kreature?" Harry asked.

"A house elf that you haven't met with yet. He is wrinkly. Let's leave it at that." Luna replied distractedly.

The trio shrugged and started making preparations. Harry was delighted at getting the job of inscribing runes of blood on the floor. Luna was serene as she got the role of chanting otherwordly languages. Hermione was less than thrilled at the job of eviscerating small animals.

As they worked, the ugly Chamber seemed to get colder and more dank. The statues of the snakes and of Slytherin seemed to be glaring at the trio, faces flickering in the eerie torchlight.

Then the ritual commenced. Harry powered each blood rune one by one, while Luna chanted in horrific demonic languages as well as a couple phrases in Russian. No one dared question her. Hermione was grimacing as she used the knife to kill small furry animals. It was just so dirty and bloody. She brightened a bit when she saw Mrs. Norris, and gleefully slashed it open. She didn't notice Harry's horror at yet again killing the apperantly immortal cat from hell. Finally, Luna made a few grand gestures, and the ritual commenced with a blood red flash of light.

A monstrous arachnid-looking thing emerged from the ritual circle, with dozens of beady red eyes on every side of its body and double the normal amount of legs a spider has. It was dripping with a viscous black goo, and each of the legs had horrifying looking barbs, hooks, and knives as organic growths at the tips of the appendages.

"Ok, I have it reasonably under my control. Say the password." Luna said.

_~Speak to me Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four~ _Harry hissed in Parseltongue, needing only to look at the stone serpants around them for inspiration.

The mouth of the statue opened, and in it, a Serpant began slithering out.

_~You are permitted to look upon me Speaker, for I have my eyes closed so you need not fear death~_ the Basilisk said, hissing seductively.

_~SNAKES HAVE NO EYELIDS! EVEN IF THE MAGICAL WORLD DOESN'T KNOW THIS, THE MUGGLE WORLD DOES! WE WON'T FALL FOR THAT!~_ Harry hissed loudly and angrily.

The Basilisk then slithered fully out of its den to regard the students. And all of a sudden, the spiderlike abomination jumped from it's current perch on top of the head of the statue, to tackle the head of the snake. The black goo dripped down from the spider monster, and began encasing the snake in a layer of the glue-like substance, which trapped it as it hardened.

"Your turn Harry" shouted Hermione as she began casting spells of protection around the trio.

"Right. The Chain of Command." Harry said. He cleared his throat and began chanting.

**"_Legilimens Cerebrum"_**

Harry could feel himself falling into darkness. He felt, more than saw, a softly glowing green orb, with an emerald fog pouring off it.

_"Imperio, Tempero, Rego__, Moderor"_

A black chain, cold as ice, began curling around Harry.

_"Ministro, H__abeo, R__eprimo, Pr__aesum"_

The chain kept losing temperature, and twined itself around Harry like a steely serpant, getting ready to choke one to death.

_"Ageto, A__mmoderor, M__odero, R__ectifico"_

The chain clinked, as it began floating towards the sphere. The links grew thicker and stronger as Harry chanted.

_"Imperium, Regimen, Arbitrium, Auspicium"_

When the chain was nearly on top of the spheres, it began sprouting spikes with an otherworldly clang. It began curling around the soul, and wrapped itself around as if to strangle the soul.

**_"ET ANIMA"_**

The chain that had wrapped itself around the sphere grew far colder than ice, to temperatures that Harry was sure would harm him in the waking world. The chain locked itself around the sphere, then manifested smaller chains that split themselves like vines, or tentacles. The smaller chains raised up like snakes, and with and almight slam, stabbed into the sphere.

**_"_**_Ligo, Praeligo, Relligo, Restringo"_

The sphere began bubbling and deforming, odd shapes coming to the surface, and the chains poking in and out like worms in an apple.

_"Adligo, Alligo, Revincio, Adnecto"_

The sphere began an almost inaudible scream, starting quiet and then crescendoing into a terrifying sound.

_"Conligo, Obligo, Necto, Colligo"_

The louder the soul shrieked, the colder the chains got. The shrieking kept raising in sound and pitch, until there was a razor sharp keening, that threatened to drive one into insanity.

_"Innecto, Praepedio, Astringo, Auctoro"_

The souls turned a roiling black, the same color as the chains. The chains clinked, and fastened to each other, binding the soul tightly and securely.

_**"Magicis Et Potentia, Fiat Ut"**_

Harry's mouth began curling up in a fearsome smile, as he observed a bowing basilisk on his exit from the mindscape. He now had a new pet.

* * *

The trio wearily walked toward the library, listening to Harry excitedly plot about selling the rare basilisk parts for huge amounts of money, as they smuggled the shrunken venom and skin out of the Chamber. Harry was very happy about the whole thing, and decided to wrap things up.

When they got to the library, Harry reached into his bookbag, and retreived the diary of the now insane Tom Riddle. Harry conjured a book that looked exactly like the diary, and then Harry began casting Soul Magicks upon it until it was as drenched with dark magic as the Horcrux. Then, Harry carefully cast a piercing charm on the diary, and then dripped basilisk venom into the hole. A wave of dark magic blasted out, as Harry's spells dissolved.

The trio then went to the Headmaster's office, dodging students and staff. Eventually, they got to the lift, and Harry very severely threatened the gargoyle until it jumped aside in fright.

They went up the revolving staircase, and came to Albus Dumbledore's office. It was eccentric, with dark wood furniture, bowls of candy, and strange shiny machines, whirring and puffing smoke.

"I see that you keep doing things in an unorthodox manner..." A voice said. Smooth, silky, and dangerous, with a dangerous undertone. The Sorting Hat.

A mental probe shot out to invade Harry's mind. As he was struggling with it, he recognized that Hermione had also been targeted. Like a blade, the probe sunk deep into his mind, ignoring large amounts of Harry's protections. It shifted and turned through Harry's maze, almost running a program to go to every section of the maze. Finally though, Harry was able to trap the probe in an infinity loop, and then eject it from his mind.

The Hat just laughed and fell silent. Dumbledore entered the room, and sat down at his desk.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I would like to inform you that I have solved the mystery of the Chamber. There was a Basilisk in it, which was being controlled by a diary from Tom Marvolo Riddle, the former Lord Voldemort. I went to the Chamber to confront it, and through the diary into the mouth of the Basilisk. The snake accidently bit down, and destroyed the diary, which released an explosion of wild dark magic, which killed the Basilisk. Here is the diary." Harry said, handing over the fake that he made.

Harry then left, without Dumbledore even noticing his absence. Hermione and Luna followed him, and Fawkes just glared good-naturedly at the Hat.

* * *

**AAN-Yes I know that this chapter sucks, but I have finals so my quality is not up to standerds. Actually I may rewrite this later. Also, I am slowing down in this story, and am getting ideas for new story premise. Should I put this story on hiatus while I write something else, or do people actually like this story. Cause I feel like it just sucks. Pls review to tell me. **


	24. Chapter 24

_The great problem with summoning deathless elemental daemons to do one's bidding, lies in finding some place to put them afterwards._

_-Barbara Hambly, Dog Wizard_

**Chapter 24-Blowing Off Steam**

* * *

"Welcome home Master." Said Pollux.

Harry had gone through the rest of the year, getting good grades and generally keeping his head down now that Dumbledore was paying more attention to him. He had spent most of his time interrogating the diary, and learned that Voldemort had a very specific plan to make Horcruxes. He had planned to make 7, but the diary Horcrux only knew of one other location. The Gaunt House.

Of course, Harry was planning to steal it. The only problem was, no matter how talented Harry was, Voldemort was still a Dark Lord, and an extremely powerful one at that. You see, the big problem is that most people seem to lose sight of the fact that bad guys are human too. They really aren't going to make obvious mistakes for the benefit of a supposed protagonist. That would just be silly(read:#stereotypicalincompetenceisalie).

Harry had his minions scout it out a couple times, finding numerous wards of strength, power, and outright evil. Go figure.

So, Harry searched his papers, notes, and various mediums of information to find the specific magic that he needed. And finally, he found it. The answer to all his problems. Black Magic.

You see, Black Magic, is a bit of a misnomer in all truth. Some of the defining characteristics of magic is the ability to break the laws of physics and the universe. Magic itself is so random, and nonsensical, that breaking definitive laws is in it's nature. However, that same principle applies to itself, where the use of magic can break the laws which constrain itself. This is known as Black Magic, wherin the laws of magic are broken. Breaking them is dangerous, difficult, or just stupid.

For example, take Gamp's Laws of Transfiguration. Why on earth would someone be unable to transfigure currency? It is completely logical that a person would be able to conjure money, as it is in said person's capabilities. Except for that curse to counterfeiters everywhere, the currancy serial number. And the tendency of Goblins to eliminate counterfeiters with extreme prejudice. Thus, the propaganda that states that money cannot be conjured, and it is Black Magic to do such a thing.

Black Magic gets a bad reputation however, given that messing around with Souls and bringing the dead back to life is against the Laws of Magic. Thus, breaking them results in Horcruxes, Necromancy, and all kinds of generally bad things. On a seperate note, the creation of Inferi is not actually Necromancy as far as Black Magic is concerned, as it does not deal in souls.

The plans are already finallized, and the strategy is that Harry is going to use several pieces of Black Magic to infiltrate the Gaunt House. A Time Ritual and a Fiendfyre Cascade. Fiendfyre is also blatantly Black Magic given that it feeds off of Souls, Energy, Magic, and Matter, which completely rapes the Laws of Conservation of Energy and of Mass, as well as several Magical ones, notably the fact that a soul cannot be destroyed.

The Time Ritual performed on the foundation of the house, would create a Temporal Shift, resulting in Harry going back in time one hour. The plan is to then find the ring, and unleash Fiendfyre, which would then burn down the house, and destroy the wardstone. Then, the site of the ring would be marked, so that Harry can go back in time again.

Too bad they say that no plan survives first contact...

* * *

"Oh shit, bugger this!" Harry yelled.

The plan had been working well, all up until the point at which Harry decided to throw in a paradox to the mix. You see, risky ventures like Horcrux-Hunting, are dangerous and hazardous to one's health. The problem, is that when using time-travel, you aren't supposed to alter the past which has already happened.

Harry had come to the location, only to find a burned out wreck radiating Dark Magic. This was good progress so far. It very heavily implied that Harry's operation had been successful.

Unfortunately, Harry decided that he wanted a bit more comfirmation, and resolved to write a note to himself explaining the success of the operation. This was a mistake. A huge mistake. As it created a dual-linked paradox.

* * *

There was a Wizarding Fairy Tale that discribed this exact scenario, and might have been very helpful to Harry, had he the traditional Wizarding upbringing.

There once was an old man, whose wife died. After this occurance, he became increasingly afraid of Death, and frantically searched for a solution. The neighbors of the man learned of his obsession, and advised him to forget it, as a fools hope. However the man was a Wizard, and a canny, cunning, and above all cautious Wizard. He became convinced that if he had enough time, he could figure out a way to post-pone natural death, but first he would need to safeguard against accidents and murderous plots.

He got it in his head that he could warn himself, about dangers in his days, and thus fashioned the very first Time-Turner, a device that he would use to go back in time at the end of the day, to inform his earlier self at the beginning of the day. He worked for months, and finally completed the device, but when it was finished, he used it for its purpose, and he Vanished. Completely Vanished from the universe.

You see, the creation of that decision, created an unnatural split in the timeline, a dual-paradox which created the same paradox with two different outcomes, and absolutely no intervening variables. The paradox had two mutually exclusive possible outcomes, which both had a 100% chance of occuring.

If the old man in the morning recieved his letter, the method he had devised to warn himself, then he would KNOW for certain that he would live through the day. However, if he didn't receive his letter, then he would go, and would either die, or somehow be prevented from delivering the letter. Or, he could simply not leave, in which case he would never send the letter in the first place. The problem with that is that no influence would make the paradox take one route or the other. If he stayed, then he would cause himself to stay and if he left, he would cause himself to leave, and thus the paradox is born, as he must take one route or the other. This did not appeal to the Universe in general, and it simply erased the Anomaly from existance. The neighbors were completely unsympathetic.

* * *

A sense of impending doom began descending upon Harry, and the fabric of the universe rippled, warping the space around him. A sense of power began filling the air, and a slip of paper appeared in Harry's pocket. It was constantly warping and blurring, flickering out of existance as if it weren't entirely real. Nothing could be read on it.

After witnessing this anomaly, Harry began to understand what had happened. He began focusing, thinking about his intent, and resolved to go, regardless of the existance of the paper. All of a sudden, the paper solidified, and became real. Now that it wasn't stuck in a temporal paradox, Harry could see that it was in a pretty bad condition. It was charred and singed, and read_ "This is why you don't mess with Time"._

Harry shuddered, and vanished the parchment. He then conjured a new piece of paper, about the same size, and then rewrote the same message. Harry felt like he was forgetting something though...

The magical ritual activated. And the Temporal Backlash exploded.

As Harry arrived in the past by an hour, a massive shockwave of magic exploded out from Harry. The energy shattered the wards, and triggered all of the traps. Several other massive explosions went off, this time physical, from the traps and wards.

After that happened, Harry blearily dragged himself off the floor feeling quite a bit of confusion. He cast several Locator Spells, and then cast a_ "Defodio" _at the ground. The dirt blasted out of the ground, making a hole down to the wardstone. Even though the wards were gone, he didn't want to take the chance that there would be secondary wards put up after the primary ones break.

Harry dragged his finger accross his wrist, while using a wandless Cutting Charm. Beads of crimson blood bubbled up, and Harry let them drop onto the wardstone, which hissed and crackled when they came in contact, throwing off sparks. Harry then walked over to where his spells indicated that the ring was. Careful not to touch it, he pried up the floorboard and then cast an obscure little charm by Uric the Oddball, which increased raw magical density in an object, sealing it with another drop of blood. This was because of how this branch of Blood Magic works. As one (exiled) Muggleborn scientist explained, "Magic is like electricity, rituals are like lightning, runes are like circuitry, and blood magic just throws copper wire into the mix."

After his preparations were completed, Harry began chanting the Burning Words.

The air around him crackled with magic. As he chanted, a small flame grew at the end of his wand, growing more and more hot as he went on.

_**"INARDESCO INFERNUS!" **_ Harry yelled, concluding the magic.

The flame coalesced into one tiny droplet of jet black flame. Then, it fell slowly towards the wardstone. Closer, closer...

The droplet hit the blood on the wardstone, then exploded out in a circular radius, devastating everything it touched with a reddish-black flame. The center was a raging firestorm, a virutal holocaust of unholy flames. The blood burned off, fueling the inferno, then then the runes on the wardstone blackened and melted. Finally, the wardstone itself cracked into three pieces. Simultaneously, a bolt of fire zigzagged from the main storm, and blasted the Horcrux. Another pillar of flame sprung up, but this one was accompanied by the panicked screams of the soul fragment.

Realizing his own possible fate, Harry blasted his way out of the house, and just barely managed to cast an Absolute Zero spell to ward off the hellfire. He then extended it to encompass the entire place. He dripped some blood on a convenient tree, and then carved several runes to sustain the shield.

Eat hot Fiendfyre, ya damned Horcrux.

And then, everything went horribly wrong.

"AHHHHHH" Harry screamed. Streams of fiery pain coursed through Harry's body, and an intrusion formed in Harry's mind. Infinite magnitudes of pain coursed through Harry's body, almost distracting him from the fact that his mind was being read. In his mindscape, everything had stopped. The air was growing cold, and the sky was turning dark. A black frost began covering the landscape, and the walls of the maze began shattering like glass.

For a second the presence withdraw, and Harry took a sigh of relief. And then it plunged back in, a dagger of jet-black ice. The probe contacted the center of the Maze, and a mushroom cloud billowed out, like a nuclear explosion. This cloud however, was obsidian in color, and the shockwave froze and shattered Harry's defenses.

Through the agony, Harry could see an image. It was persistant, a vision granted by the attacker. It was a picture of his hands, cradling an object. A black gemstone. Angular. With a triangle, a circle, and a line drawn on it. Harry's Cloak began to warm up, vibrating softly. And then, Harry understood.

He entered the vision, and then turned the Stone thrice in hand. All of a sudden, everything stopped. The mental instrusion vanished, and Harry's mind reformed into the Maze. The searing agony Harry was being subjected to disappeared, and the vision evaporated, like mist in the sun.

Harry was holding his hands out again, but this time, a black stone had appeared in them. The Resurrection Stone of Cadmus Peverell. It glimmered at him, a glint of light appearing from it's depths.

_When you stare into the Abyss, the Abyss stares into you..._

The mental thought gently nudged at Harry's mind. Harry Potter had mastered two of the Deathly Hallows...

* * *

**AN-Yeah, so sorry I am late. I was rewriting the story, before I realized that I had too much rridiculousness, so I would be creating a whole new story. Yeah, not happening. I will be doing more with this fic, as well as Omniscience and Lucky Charms. Go check em out. They are good, I promise. Eh, there are way too many reviews to try to pick out any good ones for a shoutout. So, yeah come review, ignore the shitty chapter, and love me. And ignore my . I have been writing this entire story from my phone.**

**-Lucifer**


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